Possibly, Maybe
by curleecue
Summary: "A hand carefully brushed Scorpius' hair out of his eyes and turned his head to face his rescuer. And of course, who else would it be, but Harry Potter? Once just an abstract legend, now his very own personal saviour." (HP/SM)
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing:** Harry/Scorpius  
**Warnings:** Age Disparity. Though it won't happen until well into the story (once I have fully developed the characters and their relationships), at a certain point, Harry and Scorpius will engage in a romantic relationship. If this offends you, please do not read on.

**Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes:** I wrote this story because I've noticed that a lot of chapter-length Harry/Scorpius fics tend to be Harry-centric, focusing on Harry's guilt about feeling sexual attraction towards someone half his age. In this story, I wanted to focus on Scorpius in order to explore the other side of such a relationship. (After all, he wants it just as much as Harry!) This story will follow Scorpius as he grows from a young school boy into a fully matured adult, and his changing feelings towards his best friend's father.

Thank you to my wonderful beta: blue_eyed_1987. I seriously could not have finished this story without you – you were the inspiration for half the scenes.

Title taken from Landon Pigg's "Coffee Shop" (because it happened to play during my final edit).

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_June 27__th__, 2018 _

Scorpius sat on his large four-poster bed, the black canopy draped softly around him. He gazed despondently at the opened letter, Al's excited scrawl staring back at him.

_Scor,_

_Guess what – my dad says you can spend the day (and night!) with us for his birthday. I know it's just going to be a lot of people you don't know, but I'd really love the company. James is going to bring his girlfriend, and Lily only ever wants to play with her silly dolls, so I thought it would be great fun if you came over, as well. Hugo and Rose will be there, too, so maybe you can all get to know each other better._

_Don't worry, though. I promise this isn't just some evil ploy to convert you into a total Ravenclaw. In fact, my dad says you can stay the night so we can catch up, just you and me, while having a completely, 100% MANLY sleepover, of course. No frilly nighties, face masks, or girly chick flicks, I promise!_

_Write back to me soon so I can confirm with my dad!_

_- Al _

Scorpius' first reaction had been to ask what in Merlin's name a "chick flick" was, not that it mattered, really. Since it was apparently girly, and thus nothing he wanted any part of, anyway. Yuck.

His second reaction, however, had been to hide the invitation from his father. It was only tacitly (and with visible reluctance) that he had accepted Scorpius' blooming friendship with Harry Potter's youngest son. He couldn't imagine that his father would let him attend Harry Potter's birthday party, especially with all the fanfare that surrounded it in the Wizarding press every year. Not that anyone actually knew anything about what went on during these parties. But if there was one thing the Wizarding gossip rags never tired of, it was wild stories (no matter how baselessly speculated) about the still famous Harry Potter.

Three weeks, two more letters, and five nervously gobbled down chocolate frogs later, he still hadn't figured out what to do. He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling in thought, when a house elf popped into his bedroom.

"Master Draco requests Young Master's presence in his private chambers."

A sense of trepidation settled over him as he sat up, stiff. His father only ever met him in his private chambers when he wished to discuss something that had displeased him. (Scorpius guessed it was something to do with the power trip it gave him, having taken over Grandfather Lucius' private rooms when Scorpius was five.)

He took a moment to collect himself when he reached the large mahogany doors. With a steady hand, he rapped three sharp knocks.

"Come in," his father called from within. Scorpius slipped past the door and into one of the high-backed chairs poised before his father's desk.

"Father, you sent for me?" He'd meant it as a statement, but his nerves had raised his pitch high with uncertainty.

"Do you know what happened to me, today, Scorpius?" His father went on before Scorpius could respond. "Today started out as any other day, really. I got up, prepared for work, had breakfast, and then, suddenly, just as I was about to head off to my offices, I received this." He brandished a torn envelope, and although the contents were hidden away from Scorpius' view, the waxed Potter seal shone clearly against the crisp white of the packet.

"Oh."

"Oh? Oh. Well. That's an articulate response." After another moment of silence, "Do you know what the letter says?" A minute shake of his head. "It is from the great Harry Potter himself, declaring that it is not fair that I have put my past before my own child, allowing my 'petty school boy rivalry' to interfere with 'the innocent friendship of our two sons.' Tell me, Scorpius. Do you think I've done that?"

"Er… no, sir. Of course not."

"No, I hadn't thought so either. In fact, as I recall, I have altogether refrained from making any rude comments whatsoever about the Potter family since your friendship with the Potter child began. And yet, somehow, they have been led to believe that I have not only forbidden you from attending Potter's grand birthday party, but that I have also forbidden you from any communication with the Potter child whatsoever."

_Oh, crap. Al's letters_. He had left them unanswered in a failed attempt to put off having to ask his father's permission. He mentally kicked himself for his stupidity.

"Father-"

"When did you receive the invitation?"

"… three weeks ago."

"Three weeks. And in all that time you couldn't find even one moment to let me know about it?"

Scorpius trained his eyes on the patterned ottoman at his feet.

"Scorpius, look at me." Reluctantly, he did. "I want you to feel comfortable approaching me with such things. I am your father, not your gatekeeper. I love you, and I want to see you happy. Please tell me you don't honestly believe I am this man Potter thinks me to be, a petty fool who puts ancient rivalries before his own son's happiness."

God, he felt like an arsehole.

"I'm sorry, father. Forgive me. I just-. Al is my closest friend at Hogwarts, and I- I suppose I let my nerves get the better of me. I didn't want to have to tell him no, and so I, stupidly, thought it better not to say anything at all."

"But why did you think I would have said no?"

Uncertain how to respond, he looked up, tentative, and instantly wished he hadn't. A heartbroken, weary look flashed across his father's eyes. It was all Scorpius could do not to cry on the spot. He hated that look. Hated knowing he'd disappointed his father. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappoint you."

Draco's eyes hardened. "Enough, Scorpius. You have not disappointed me. I have disappointed myself if you truly think so little of me."

"Father, I don't—"

"I said enough, Scorpius." His voice grew harsher. "You will write to that Potter boy, and you will apologise for your careless neglect of his letters and kind invitation. And then you will write to Mr. Potter himself, and apologise once again for the unnecessary histrionics you have caused. And then maybe, just maybe, they might actually allow you to attend after all. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, father." _God, how mortifying_, he thought, already dreading the letter he would have to write to Harry Potter, himself. He was just Al's dad. Scorpius knew that. And yet, he was still _the_ Harry Potter, the man whose face had decorated several carefully sequestered posters in his bedroom (and even two of the five chocolate frog cards he'd collected these past few weeks). He wished for all the world that a Boggart would jump out from a hidden corner and kill him right now. Then again, it would probably just morph into Harry Potter's judging face as he waited for his letter of apology.

"You may leave." Scorpius rose and turned to go. As he reached the door, his father called out once more. "I do love you, Scorpius. And I hope that one day you understand that I will always put your happiness first. No matter what."

A small smile perked the corner of his lips as he turned once more to his father. "I love you, too, father."

Back in his room, he sloppily scrawled a letter to Al, apologising profusely and saying that yes, of course he would love to spend the night. He would explain later, but everything was fine, and his father had had nothing to do with any of it. Promise.

Now, for his letter to Al's dad. "Ungh…" he moaned, his face pressed miserably into his hands. For this letter, he pulled out his most expensive roll of parchment and tried to write with the steadiest of hands. After a dozen scribbled out mistakes, as many corrections screeched out by his expensive (_loathsome_) spell check quill, and five angrily balled up strips of parchment (at _two_ Galleons a foot, no less), he finally had the best letter his twelve year-old self could muster up for the legend himself.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_ I am truly sorry for the misunderstanding my carelessness has caused. Please understand that my father played no role in my delayed response, and the blame is mine alone._

_ I am honoured by the invitation to your 38__th__ birthday party, and would be thrilled to attend, if the offer still stands._

_Sincerest apologies,_

_ Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy_

It wasn't very good, and he didn't know if using his full name was too formal, but then again, he was writing to a man with whom he had never before spoken. His only interactions with the once-boy hero consisted of two furtive glimpses, both stolen at platform 9 ¾: once as he'd ridden it to Hogwarts (his father's controlled glare leading the way to the famous Wizard), and a second time as he had returned home for the summer (Al's fluttering robes guiding his eyes this time as his friend jumped into the Wizarding hero's arms). His own father had swept him away without a moment's hesitation while his mother cooed at him about the lovely dinner the house elves had prepared for his return. And although he had since advanced from thinking of Harry Potter as simply an abstract celebrity and hero of the Wizarding world, he had only really progressed to thinking of him as Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, oh and by the way, also my best friend's dad.

A wave of mortification hit him as he realised that Harry Potter had actually written to his father because of him. He could only imagine Al's characteristic nagging as he wondered why the evil Draco Malfoy wouldn't let his son come visit. And then he imagined the powerful legend himself, sitting down to write a letter defending his son's friendship, all because of Scorpius. He dropped his head unceremoniously onto his desk. Suddenly, he was a lot less excited about having been invited to Al's dad's birthday party, and a lot more worried about having to face an awkward encounter with Harry Potter.

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_July 31__st__, 2018_

Scorpius stood immobile at the foot of his bed. A mess of clothing stared baked at him from across the disturbed duvet. It was 11 AM on the day of Harry Potter's birthday, and Scorpius could not for the life of him figure out what to pack for the night. He'd never had a sleepover before. Al had been fairly explicit about the things they _weren't_ going to do, but he had been unhelpfully cryptic about what sorts of "completely, 100% manly" things they _were_ going to do.

Truth be told, Scorpius had always had a slight inkling that he wasn't particularly manly. Not in any obvious way, of course; but there were little things. He liked Quidditch and sports, and all the necessary boy things well enough; but he often found he was more interested in the players riding the brooms than whether or not a particular team won. When his father seethed with anger as the opposite team caught the Snitch, Scorpius simply enjoyed the look of sheer ecstasy on the winning Seeker's face. There was something to be said about a well-deserved grin, brimming with joy. He liked to watch as they flew off to clap their teammates on the back, their strong legs clinging tight to their brooms. It gave Scorpius a warm feeling down low in his belly, and he imagined he must just wish to be exactly like them.

Would they talk about Quidditch when they went to Al's room, then? Or perhaps he would want to sneak out for the two to play a quick game of their own. As first years, Al had already proven to be an excellent flyer. Upon later questioning, he'd admitted to practising with his dad all the time. A twinge of guilt had wiggled its way into Scorpius' gut at the confession. His own father had often offered to teach him a flying lesson or two, but he had never been interested. Talking to Al that day, he had decided to put a greater effort into flying. And after a few one-on-one games, Al had even convinced Scorpius to try out for the Slytherin Qudditch team come next term. It was during those many flying sessions the autumn of their first year that the two had cemented their growing friendship.

Now, here he stood, so nervous, it felt as if Al and his family were some unknown entity he was trying to impress. Should he bring formal sleeping robes, or casually sleep in his underpants (as he'd realised – with an unexpected thrill of fascination – boys often did during those first few months at Hogwarts)? Having never shared a room with Al, he had no idea what his preference for sleepwear was. Perhaps he should take his formal sleeping robes as a backup, but only pull them out if Al showed signs of doing the same.

And what about his outfit for the party? Al had not clarified how formal or informal attire was expected to be. A frustrated moan rushed through his throat, and he flopped unceremoniously forward onto the pile of clothes. This was ridiculous. It shouldn't be this complicated. It had never felt so difficult at Hogwarts. Yet here he stood, an absolute mess, worrying about every aspect of his behaviour around Al. Worst of all, he knew it had nothing to do with Al at all.

He growled angrily for his house elf. "Pack me all the necessities for a night spent away from the Manor. And pick out a suitable outfit for Harry Potter's birthday party." That should do it. Whatever the house elf picked should work well enough. Twinkie had never failed him before.

As it turned out, Twinkie picked out a lovely set of robes, pale grey, save for a rich, azure lining. It was light and airy, perfect for an outdoors summer event. Underneath, he wore grey slacks and a white shirt. He felt comfortable. It was sophisticated enough to pass for a more formal event, yet casual enough (once he took off his robes) to pass for an informal gathering. And if Al's typical Muggle attire was anything to go by, casual wear was probably the more likely of the two.

Overnight trunk in hand, he made his way to his father's study and knocked hesitantly at the open door. His father looked up.

"Scorpius? Are you leaving now?"

"Yes. Is Mother home?"

"She and your grandmother went shopping for summer dresses in Diagon Alley."

"Right. She mentioned that."

"We didn't realise you'd be leaving so early. When will you return? I'm sure your mother will be desperate to see you."

"Al didn't specify, but I imagine I should be back first thing tomorrow morning."

"Very well. If anything should change, or you find that you need something, Firecall immediately. I'll leave the Floo channel in our bedroom open."

"Yes, of course."

There was a moment of silence before Draco stood. Scorpius wasn't sure what exactly his father planned to do, but in the next moment, he walked up to Scorpius and gave him a stiff, slightly awkward hug.

"Father?"

"Be safe. Have fun."

"I will."

His father stepped back with one hand cupping the back of Scorpius' head as he looked down to peer into his face. Then he placed a small kiss atop his head and stepped away.

"You can use the Floo in my study. Here." He pushed the canister of Floo powder into Scorpius' hand, gesturing towards the fireplace.

"Right. Thank you." He grabbed a handful of the sandy mix and threw it into the orange flames. With one last look at his father, more emotional than Scorpius had seen him in many years, he stepped into the green flames and called out, "Godric's Hollow."

The familiar whirl tugged him in all directions until he was spit out into a cosy looking living area. He only had a second to take in the red and gold, rug weighted down by an overstuffed sofa, before a shrill, "Scorpius!" called out, and a blur of limbs and hair tackled him from his right. Unprepared, he toppled over instantly, and a raucous bout of laughter served only to further embarrass him.

"Erm… Al?"

Al moved to straddle Scorpius' chest before looking down at him with a gleeful smile. "You're here! Woo!"

Scorpius looked around nervously, hoping no one else was there to see what he thought a rather improper state, sprawled on the floor of Harry Potter's living room, the host's son straddling his upper body. It was then that he noticed the buzz coming in from the neighbouring room, and he quickly nudged Al away so he could stand.

"Where is everyone? Am I late?"

"Oh no, don't worry. There's no late or early. You come when you come. Mostly just my mum's side of the family is here, now, helping finish up some of the food so we can start setting up. They're in the kitchen. Do you want to meet them?"

"Sure."

Al grabbed Scorpius by the wrist and tugged him towards a door to their right. A wave of sound flooded Scorpius' ears as they entered. More surprising was the shock of bright hair everywhere he turned. He had never seen so much red in his life. He hurried to mask his surprise with a carefully schooled look of polite curiosity.

"Mum! This is Scorpius." All heads shot up in Scorpius' direction, and he silently prayed that the responding heat he felt in his cheeks didn't quite match the fire in their hair. It was the smallest woman in the crowd who responded.

"Scorpius," she said, walking towards him and laying a hand gently on his shoulder. He felt keenly uncomfortable by the overly familiar touch. "It's very nice to meet you. Al has only great things to say about you."

He glanced at Al's beaming grin before returning his gaze to Ginny Potter. Mrs. Potter. "It's very nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Potter. I'm honoured that you would invite me to such a special event."

"Well look at that. I guess the Malfoy manners can be put to good use after all!"

"George Weasley, you shut it right now!"

Scorpius watched silently as a plump woman thwacked the Weasley's Wizard Wheeze's owner across the head. It felt surreal to see him in Al's home.

"Just ignore him, Scorpius. Uncle George is not to be taken seriously." He sent Al a small smile without quite meeting his eyes. He felt distinctly uncomfortable. It was only noon, and he could not imagine how he was going to make it through the rest of the day.

The door to the backyard opened, and a tall man backed his way into the kitchen, a heavy looking box straining in his arms. After a grunt, Mrs. Potter noticed, and she playfully rolled her eyes, sighing, "Harry, for Merlin's sake. How many times do we have to remind you? You're a Wizard. Just levitate the damn thing!"

"Oh, Christ. I forgot," he said, suddenly turning his face so that Scorpius could see that it was, in fact, Harry Potter. "Would you?" He shifted so that Al's mother could aim a swift _Wingardium Leviosa_ at what Scorpius now understood to be a Muggle television. He had learned about them in a Muggle Studies book he'd found once in the library, but he hadn't imagined them to be so big. Or so flat. And where were the tiny people?

"Thanks," Harry Potter said, finally letting his arms drop with a loud exhale. "I was thinking we could plug that one into Al's room for when Malfoy's boy gets here. Maybe they could watch some movies tonight or something. Although I can't imagine the poor thing even knows what a television is. Do you think he'll hate it?" Mrs. Potter tried to stifle her laughter with a delicate hand. Al cleared his throat. Harry Potter finally looked over in their direction, and blanched when he realised his blunder. He swiped a hand through his hair, stammering, "Oh, you're here. Sorry! I didn't mean. I mean, of course you're not just Malfoy's boy or a poor thing or anything like that. You're… er… Scorpion, right?"

"Dad, I told you a million times, it's Scorpi_us_!"

"Oh, right, right. Scorpius. Exactly. I knew that," he teased, smiling. "Anyway, Scorpi_us, _we're very glad to have you here, and I'm absolutely thrilled to finally meet the friend Al's been gushing about all summer. And I do mean _all_ summer." He rested a firm grip along the back of Scorpius' neck, ignoring Al's embarrassedly hissed, "_Dad!"_ Scorpius felt all the breath leave his lungs as the warmth of Harry Potter – no, Mr. Potter's, hand spread through his shoulders. He imagined that he could feel the buzz of magic, the strength of this powerful man dancing across his skin in subtle vibrations. It felt warm and comforting, and it settled heavy in his lower belly just as he always felt looking upon those powerful Quidditch players. It felt intoxicating.

Finally looking up into Mr. Potter's eyes, not daring to speak. He was thankful Mr. Potter hadn't mentioned the letter to his father, but he had decided earlier that morning to stay as far away from Al's dad as possible, even if only on a conversational level. Yes, he would be in Mr. Potter's vicinity for the entirety of his stay here, but he would avoid him and any conversation with him at all costs. He knew from myriad conversations with Al that he hated the idolisation of his dad; he hated when people looked at him and only thought of Harry Potter, the great legend. And Scorpius knew that it would ruin their friendship if he revealed a similar awe and intimidation brought on by Al's father. So he had decided to avoid Harry Potter (_Mr._ Potter!) altogether.

He waited silently for _Mr_. Potter to finally step away, taking the warmth of his hand with him, before turning to Al and saying, "Can I see your garden?" Anything to get away from Al's dad.

Outside, Scorpius was surprised by the quaintness of it all. At the Manor, everything was about grandeur and opulence. Here, it was almost as if the Potters were trying to stand out as little as possible, quietly blending into their surroundings. In the distance, he saw two modest goal posts, the court's white outline barely visible on the grass. Much closer was a medium-sized lake. Varying depths were evident by the hilly shape of the ground surrounding it. To his left, a white tent had been erected, with ten round tables clustered throughout, each one with a different number of chairs crowding around it. And just at the house's entrance was a colourful little garden, blooming with roses, geraniums, and magically enhanced daffodils.

"It's lovely," he said, turning to Al. He meant it.

"Thanks. The lake is really nice. My dad puts a light Heating Charm on it so that it's just warm enough that you don't freeze, but still cool enough to be refreshing, which is important. Especially now that it's about to be noon. The sun is like a giant ball of fire over our house!"

"Perhaps that might have something to do with the sun _actually_ being a giant ball of fire over your house," he smirked. He liked Al, liked the way his left cheek dimpled when he smiled, and the way he opened his eyes wide when trying to embellish. He let his fingers gently brush the back of Al's hand before jerking back, shocked by the unconscious motion. Al stared back at Scorpius, a strange look in his eyes. Then the look turned mischievous, and he pounced on Scorpius, knocking him down.

Scorpius yelped in surprise.

"Come on!" Al shouted. "Fight me back! You have to try and pin me!"

"Pin you?"

"Yeah, whoever lands on top is the winner, see?" He said, slamming Scorpius' chest against the ground and straddling his waist. "I win. Now you try?"

Hesitantly, Scorpius pushed back at Al, but he wouldn't budge. "I can't."

"Yes you can. Try harder. Like this." And with that, he roughly lifted Scorpius by the shoulders and once again shoved him to the ground.

"Hey, that hurts!"

"Then do something about it." A wicked gleam shone in Al's eyes, and Scorpius was surprised at the realisation that he didn't altogether dislike it. With a grunt, he threw all his weight into Al's shoulder, catching him by surprise and reversing their positions. To be sure he couldn't fight back, Scorpius grabbed both Al's hands and held them down above his head, flat against the grass. He squeezed his thighs tighter around Al's hips when he tried to wriggle free, Al's shirt bunching up to reveal a sliver of pale skin. A strange feeling overtook Scorpius, then, momentarily stilling him, and Al seized this opportunity to topple him back over. Stealing Scorpius' approach, he shoved Scorpius' hands above his head this time, hovering over him, chest heaving, hair hanging around his reddened face. Scorpius blinked up at him. He felt… odd.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. The sun. It's hot."

Al laughed, rolling off of him and onto his back. "You're just upset I beat you."

Scorpius turned to him with a grin, feeling closer to normal again, and muttered out a dry, "Clearly."

"So do you want to go into the lake, then? Cool off a bit?"

"Erm…." Dread pooled in his chest. He'd hoped Al wouldn't ask. As a child, Scorpius had accidentally fallen into the deep end of one of the garden lakes at the Manor, and he had never quite gotten over his fear of natural waters since. It was silly, really, as his father had pointed out on many an occasion. His fear of drowning had kept him from learning the very skill that would prevent such a fate, and yet he persistently refused to go into any water deeper than his knees. Even if it meant never learning to swim.

Still, an adamant stance at the Manor seemed an embarrassing secret next to Al. So he shrugged his shoulders with firmly shut lips and silently trailed after Al to the lake. He scanned the area for one of the shallower ends, and called out, "Hey, let's go in from here. I just want to wet my feet."

"What? No, we have to go in! It feels great Scor, I promise! Look, I'll go in first."

He peeled off his shirt in a single, gliding movement, then kicked off his trainers and socks before stepping back a few feet and running head first into the lake. The splash spattered water all over Scorpius, and he could feel that indeed, the water felt delicious against his sweaty skin. He kicked off his own shoes and socks, but remained on the ground. He perched himself upon a patch of land jutting out above the water. His feet made little splashes as he kicked them lightly back and forth.

Al watched him quizzically. "Why won't you come in?"

"I just – I don't want to get too wet right now. We still haven't eaten, and I haven't even introduced myself to everyone yet."

"Scor, no one's going to care! We can just dry off once they call us in. See? They're only just starting to set up."

Scorpius looked back to see that, in fact, the crowd of red heads had once against clustered together, this time around the tent, levitating plates and silverware onto the tables. Mrs. Potter caught his eye, and with a smile, shouted, "Hey, you two! Stop being such lazy sloths, and come help us set up!"

"Aw, _mum_!" Al whined, swimming back to the grass; and although Scorpius was confused that the Potter family would bother doing the work better suited to house elves, he complied, glad for an excuse to avoid the water.

A few broken plates, two cuts, and more manual labour than Scorpius had ever experienced later, the tables were completely set up, filled to the brim with platters of food and drink. A muttered '_Canto_,' and soft music filled the air. It wasn't anything Scorpius had ever heard; he assumed it must be Muggle.

A rush of people suddenly entered the garden from the back entrance, more than Scorpius had realised could fit in the small home. Kiss after kiss flew through the air as greetings were exchanged. When about the hundredth pair of lips kissed the air, Mr. Potter appeared at the gate, and was instantly assailed by dozens of 'Happy Birthday' wishes. Humiliation hit Scorpius like a cold splash of water. He had forgotten to wish him a happy birthday. Had in fact said absolutely nothing to him. Mortified, he looked away. There was nothing he could do about it now. Mr. Potter was whisked away into crowd after crowd of people, and Scorpius forced himself to stop keeping track.

"Come on," Al called. "Let's get some food. I'm starving!"

"What do you mean? They haven't called the start of the meal yet."

Al looked at him strangely. It was a look he was rapidly growing accustomed to. It seemed odd to Scorpius that their differences could stand out so little at school, and yet make them so alien to each other once outside the unique little bubble that was Hogwarts. Scorpius had no doubt that were Al to stay at the Manor, he, too, would be baffled by the stark differences in customs. But a quick look around made Al's confusion evident. All around them, people were already eating, some just nibbling as they chattered, while others had long since served themselves and were working through second servings.

"Right," Scorpius muttered. Though he wasn't yet particularly hungry, he followed Al and proceeded to serve himself a helping of roasted chicken and potatoes. They had just taken a seat at one of the more secluded tables when Al shot back up, pulling Scorpius with him. "Look! It's Rose and Hugo! Let's go sit with them!"

Scorpius held back from rolling his eyes as he picked up his plate and allowed himself to be dragged over to a table at the centre of the crowd.

"Al! Hello, Scorpius," Hugo said, rising from his seat and extending his hand. Scorpius shook it with a tight smile. The two had met before. It wasn't that Scorpius had any particular qualms with Hugo, but he wasn't especially fond of him, either. It was just something about the way he carried himself, suspicious and detached with one person, and immediately friendly with the next. Despite the Slytherin nature of it all (and how preposterous, when Hugo was a Ravenclaw), Scorpius couldn't get himself to trust someone who could change his demeanour so quickly. It made him wonder if one could ever know which was the real him, and which was the forced façade. In any case, he tended to discourage any friendship where Hugo Weasley was concerned.

"Hey, Hugo! Hi, Rose!"

"How are you two?" Rose asked, laughter in her voice.

"Great! I've been showing Scor around. Even showed him the lake, though I haven't been able to convince him to get in, yet."

"Really?" Rose asked. "The water's great. I don't know how Uncle Harry does it, but Al and I have completely different internal body temperatures, and it's always perfect for both of us."

"He probably uses a spell that adapts to each individual's body heat," Hugo cut in, and Scorpius reluctantly agreed.

"Well, anyway, you should definitely try it. Make sure not to eat too much so we can go in after lunch."

"Yeah, maybe," Scorpius replied. The four chatted for a while as they caught up on holiday trips and Hogwarts gossip. How gossip could go on when it wasn't term time, Scorpius had no idea, but Rose seemed to know whose sister liked whose brother and how far they would 'go' before they had even met. Hugo knew every Quidditch statistic since 1924, and he used it to calculate which Hogwarts team had the highest chances of winning given this or that player's success rate. It was interesting enough, but Scorpius' mind started to wander forty-five minutes into the conversation. Despite the tent's shade, the sun's rays were sweltering around them, and tiny beads of perspiration began to collect at the nape of his neck. It made him wish he really could just dip into the lake after all.

"Hey!" a voice suddenly shouted at them just to Scorpius' right. He jumped when he realised it was Mr. Potter.

"Dad, hi!"

"You guys want to go for a swim?"

"Yeah!" came the excited shouts from everyone at the table, save for Scorpius. Harry looked down at Scorpius with a broad smile.

"Come on," he said, lifting Scorpius gently from his underarm, which Scorpius thought an extremely odd and embarrassing place from which to grab someone. He swallowed nervously, praying to the gods above that his underarms were not moist from sweat. If they were, Mr. Potter showed no indication. Instead, he let go of Scorpius' arm once he was up, and ruffled his hair. "You must be burning with those heavy robes. Take them off and come swim with us."

He didn't know why it made him feel strange to hear those particular words from Mr. Potter. What felt like a blush heated the area around his ears, and he did his best to ignore it. Not wanting to appear a rude guest, he carefully unbuttoned the clasp of his robes and folded them over the back of the chair.

"There. Don't you feel better, now?" Mr. Potter grinned at him, and Scorpius felt the blush spread. This was ridiculous. He didn't understand why he felt so strange around Al's dad. "Hey," Mr. Potter said, kneeling down as he placed a hand around Scorpius' neck. He lifted Scorpius' head with one thumb pushing up against his jaw. It felt… nice. Intimate. A way of getting his attention that his father had never used himself. "Scorpius, there's no need to be shy. You're part of the family, now."

To his left, Scorpius saw Al beam. Rose and Hugo looked on, somewhat amused. He muttered petulantly, "I'm not shy."

"Of course not," Harry smiled, removing his hand and standing in one fluid movement. "Well, I'm going for a swim. Who's coming with me?" He shouted out to the general public. Several hands shot up in the air and the younger children squealed in delight at the chance to swim. A few adults rolled their eyes, while others laughed and joined in. From his left, a ball of auburn hair whizzed past and threw itself into Harry's arms.

"Woah, Lily!"

"Can I come, too, Daddy?"

"Of course. But you'll have to carry Daddy in. Today he's too old to walk." And with that, he slumped himself onto his youngest child until she almost buckled under his weight.

"Daddy!" She whined.

"What?"

"I can't carry you! You're crushing me!"

"Oh, fine. Lazy," he huffed, picking her up with an exaggerated look of irritation. Al rolled his eyes. Scorpius felt confused.

As Mr. Potter walked away with Lily in his arms, she looked over her father's shoulder and straight at Scorpius. With a shy smile, she waved at him. He couldn't help but wave back.

"Are you really not going in?"

"I'll go in a little bit. I just don't want to go in all the way."

"Why not?" Asked Hugo – in a rather annoying way, if you asked Scorpius.

"I'm not that hot."

"Scorpius, come _on_-"

"I said I don't want to!" It had come out harsher than he'd intended. He wished they would stop pestering him before they ruined the whole day all because of a little water. In a calmer voice, and with pleading eyes, he turned to Al. "Okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Al turned away towards the lake without another word. An awkward silence followed as they walked. The four stripped their clothes off until they were just in shorts (Rose had worn a swimsuit underneath her dress), and then proceeded to step into the water. Soon, Al, Hugo, and Rose were swimming in the deep end, laughing. Scorpius felt a slight twinge at being so easily abandoned before quashing the feeling and stepping back out of the water. He didn't want to stand here alone for everyone to see.

Instead, he walked along the length of the lake into a patchier side shaded by a large tree. There was a cliff there a few feet above the water. It looked sturdy and cool and hidden enough away from everyone that he would not be noticed. Carefully, he sat himself down near the edge and leaned against the tree. The sounds of laughter rang through the air, and he allowed himself to relax under their soft lullaby. It was nice to attend a party and have no obligations save for enjoying himself. Normally, his father would make him mingle with all the politicians so as to get them familiar with him from an early age. Here, he could just relax and watch as an outsider, albeit a slightly lonely outsider.

He looked down to search out Al, but found only Hugo and Rose. Perhaps Al had gone in to use the toilet. He shoved away the voice that hoped Al had gone looking for him. Instead, he allowed his eyes to wander again, until they came to a stop at Mr. Potter. No longer holding Lily in his arms, he lay back, floating on the water's surface. He looked peaceful, his eyes closed, and his face free of lines. As his gaze wandered further down Mr. Potter's body, he was startled to realise that Al's dad was quite fit. It wasn't that he had ever thought otherwise of the Wizarding World's hero, but he had always associated him with magical power, not physical strength. And although he was sure that the many thousands of Witches thirstily guzzling down all the many magazine articles would protest their disbelief, Scorpius had never considered Harry – no, Mr. Potter – as a sexual being. It was a strange thought, made even stranger by the fact that he was his best friend's dad, and a man at that.

It was stupid, he thought, unable to tear his gaze away from the broad shoulders resting a few feet below. This was stupid. He was stupid. He should really reconsider talking to Priscilla Deengrow. She had seemed interested in him last year, and Al had said it was a sure thing. Scorpius just hadn't felt like it. He wasn't sure when he was supposed to start having sexual thoughts about girls, but he hoped 12 years old wasn't too late. From the rare accounts his father had shared with him about his own childhood, he hadn't started dating until fourth year, when he'd asked their family friend Pansy Parkinson to the Yule ball. So he had another three years, if he really thought about it. In fact, his father hadn't even really been dating Pansy at that point. He had only just asked her out, so in actuality, he probably had about –

A rough shove interrupted his thoughts and had him hurdling through the air. In the distance, he heard laughter over his terrified scream just before he hit the water with a painful splash.

All sound vanished. He opened his eyes wide in fear, flailing his limbs even more when he realised he couldn't see the lake's bottom. It was an endless expanse of murky green, and he shot his head up gasping for air. He heard a worried shout of "Scorpius! Scorp-" before sinking back down. He couldn't scream any more. Water had slipped into his mouth, and he could feel it seeping into his lungs as he struggled to resurface. He couldn't. Couldn't find the top. Didn't know which way was up or down or right or left. He felt dizzy and scared and he just wanted to _breathe_, and suddenly, a suction of water appeared to his right before strong arms grabbed him from his waist and yanked up. He broke the surface and coughed, harder than he could remember coughing since he'd caught the Wizarding flu two years ago. A rough hand slapped him almost painfully on his back, forcing more water to spew out. His throat and nostrils burned, and it was a moment before he realised he was coughing his spit all over someone's neck. He tried to apologise only to fall into another coughing spell as his throat rebelled against any kind of talking. The hand on his back had stopped assaulting him and was now rubbing soothing circles into his skin, the voice near his ear whispering, "Hey, it's okay. I've got you. It's okay."

Scorpius could only nod dumbly, tiredly, leaning his forehead down, and burrowing it deep into the warm neck to his left. He breathed in the scent, clean lake water and a hint of something distinctly masculine. He breathed out, confused, but not wanting to break this feeling of warmth and contentment. The arms around him, pressing him into this warm, hard body gave him a sense of utter protection, and he couldn't remember why he'd felt so lonely just moments before.

Then a hand carefully brushed Scorpius' hair out of his eyes and turned his head to face his rescuer. And of course, who else would it be, but Harry Potter? Once just an abstract legend, now his very own personal saviour. And why wouldn't the whole world want him as their hero when he felt so warm and safe and good?

"You feeling okay, now? Can you breathe?" Scorpius nodded silently, eyes wide, as that warm feeling settled in his belly once again. He closed his eyes to revel in it a moment longer before Al's voice came barrelling out at him, the sound of frantic splashing approaching.

"Scorpius! I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't know!"

"Al," came Mr. Potter's stern voice. It was the first time Scorpius had ever heard him sound anything but kind. He was shocked at the notion that the same throat that had just moments ago produced such soothing sounds could now sound so intimidating. "That wasn't even remotely funny."

"I know. Dad, I had no idea. I thought he just didn't want to get wet. I didn't know he couldn't swim!"

"Wait a minute. Let me get this straight," He said, still cradling Scorpius protectively against his neck. Scorpius knew it was strange and that he should probably be pushing away from Mr. Potter right about now rather than cuddling against him like a baby, but he just felt so nice here, so calm against his chest, his legs wrapped firmly around his waist. Wait. When had that happened? "Scorpius told you he didn't want to go in the water, and so you thought an appropriate response would be to push him in when he wasn't looking?"

Al opened his mouth to protest, but immediately stopped at what Scorpius imagined to be another stern look from his father. Instead, he closed his mouth and gulped, looking down miserably. Somehow, Mr. Potter's hand had slithered its way up Scorpius' back, and his thumb was now rubbing soothing circles into the back of his neck. It felt nice.

With a sigh, he pulled himself away and smiled minutely at the two of them. It's okay, Mr. Potter. I'm fine, and I know he didn't mean it. It's my own fault for not being honest."

"It is most certainly not your fault. You don't have to explain your every decision to Al. And he knows that. Don't you, Al." Al nodded solemnly. "But it's not my place to forgive you or not. You're getting out of the lake this very instant, and you can apologise to Scorpius in private."

Al said nothing, but followed his father as he carried Scorpius, still clinging to his waist, back to the grass. Once there, he reluctantly extricated his limbs from around Al's dad and looked down, uncomfortable. He hadn't meant to get Al in trouble. In fact, he had been shocked that Mr. Potter would scold his child, seeming more protective of Scorpius than of his own son. Then again, it was probably just like him to do the noble thing rather than cling to nepotism. Of course he would protect someone against his own child if he believed his child to be doing wrong.

"Al," Mr. Potter called out once again, this time in a gentler voice. "Do you understand why I'm upset?"

"Yes," Al answered. "It wasn't nice of me to throw Scorpius in the water when he didn't want me to."

"Well, there's that," he laughed. "But more importantly, Scorpius could have been really hurt. Imagine if I hadn't been there to pull him out. Maybe you wouldn't have been able to get to him in time. He could have been seriously hurt. It's not wrong to be curious or playful, but if someone tells you something, if they make a decision and you respect that person, then you have to respect their decision and trust that they have their reasons. Does that make sense?"

Al turned to Scorpius with a desperate apology flashing through his eyes.

"Do you respect Scorpius, Al?"

"Yes."

"Then respect his decisions from now on. Okay?"

Al nodded, still frozen to the spot, held in place, Scorpius imagined, by shame. He couldn't take it any more. He threw his arms around Al and whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I should've trusted you not to care. I promise to trust you from now on if you'll trust me. Yeah?"

Al let out a shaky half laugh, half sob before nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Promise."

Mr. Potter gave them one last knowing look before shaking his head and walking away, back to the lake and back to his party.

"I don't want to be down here with everyone any more. Let's go inside and shower. Then I can show you how to use the telly." Scorpius smiled his agreement.

They spent the rest of the evening laughing at a series about people that the commentator claimed was real life, but seemed unbelievably staged. Why on earth would Muggles reveal such outrageous behaviour for all the world to see? Didn't it impact their lives once the show was over?

At dinner time, Mrs. Potter let the boys eat in Al's room, bringing them their plates right to Al's bed. Scorpius liked that Al didn't send him to a separate guest room (as Scorpius no doubt would have done had he stayed with him at the manor). He liked being close to Al and feeling his leg against his as they ate their dinner while watching the telly. As the evening wound down and the last of the guests left, Scorpius saw the lanterns in the garden quietly flicker off. A moment later, a knock sounded at the door followed by Mr. Potter's messy head of hair peeking in through the open slit.

"You two boys okay?"

"Yup!" came Al's enthusiastic reply. Scorpius smiled shyly in response.

"Good. I brought you up some cake from the party."

"Yes!" exclaimed Al as he all but snatched the two plates from his dad's hand. Mr. Potter laughed.

"Okay, well enjoy. And don't stay up too late. You know your mum hates it when you sleep in past breakfast."

"Mmhmm. Okay," Al said, already pushing his dad back behind the door so he could return to watching the telly.

"Okay. Good night, boys. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, dad."

"Good night, Mr. Potter."

He closed the door quietly behind him, and Scorpius listened to his receding footsteps. He waited what he thought was a plausible amount of time to excuse himself to the bathroom before sneaking out and closing the door securely behind him. He looked around, trying to identify where he thought the footsteps had retreated. Tentatively, he walked to his right, towards a door standing slightly ajar, where muffled voices streamed out from behind it.

He stared for a minute. He felt incredibly ridiculous; he had no idea what he was doing. But he wanted to say it. At least once before the day's end. He owed him that much. Mustering all his courage, he inhaled deeply and approached the door before quietly knocking. He stepped back so as not to seem as though he were eavesdropping, and waited for Mr. Potter to answer the door.

Instead, it was Mrs. Potter, confused but smiling down at him. "Hello, Scorpius. Can I help you?"

"Er… well, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Potter, actually."

"Really? Whatever for? Is something wrong?"

"N-no. I just- I never got to wish him a happy birthday. Officially."

"Well, isn't that sweet. He's just in the bathroom. Let me call him out for you before he gets in the shower. Harry!" she called, stepping away from the door. She turned back to Scorpius and waved him in as she called out again. "Scorpius has something to say to you."

Scorpius could hardly believe he was stepping into Mr. and Mrs. Potter's bedroom. His own parents' bedroom had always seemed a deeply private place, in which he was never allowed. And yet Mrs. Potter had just let him, a boy she had only just met hours ago, waltz right into her own bedroom without even batting a lash. He certainly had a lot to learn about Al's family.

A moment later, Mr. Potter stepped out, covered only in a low hanging towel slung loosely around his waist. It made Scorpius feel strange and warm at the same time. He was staring, he realised, and he quickly looked up.

"Scorpius. You had something to say to me?"

"Oh. Yes. I… just wanted to thank you. For earlier."

"Of course. I couldn't very well let you drown. Your father would have murdered me. And rightly so. You're a sweet boy." He ruffled his fingers through Scorpius' hair. Why did it make him feel so good to have his hair ruined? Had he not just spent the last hour combing through it while watching that vile Muggle series?

"And also," he added, reminded by Mrs. Potter's watchful gaze. He wished she wasn't there. He had wanted this to be private. Though now he couldn't think why. It wasn't a private thing, really. Or at least, it shouldn't be. "Er… Happy Birthday. I forgot to say it earlier. But- Happy Birthday, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Scorpius. It means a lot to me. I'm happy you were here to share it with me."

"Oh. Me too," he replied, suddenly a little breathless. "Well, good night. Er… Mr. Potter. Mrs. Potter."

"Good night, Scorpius," they chorused together. And as he walked back to Al's room, he could not figure out why it bothered him so much for the two to be in such perfect sync.

"Well that was a long bathroom break," Al complained when he slipped back into the bed, forcing him to give over some of the bedcovers.

"I saw your dad on the way. Finally remembered to wish him a happy birthday."

"Oh. Well." And with that, he turned back to the telly.

Scorpius smiled and turned onto his side, deciding he'd had enough for staying awake today. He really didn't think Al would mind. He pulled off his shirt, and kicked off his trousers (as he'd seen Al do earlier that evening), and he lay back down, feeling the heat from Al's body brushing against him. The last thought on his mind as he drifted to sleep, his thigh pressed lightly against Al's, was whether or not Mrs. Potter felt the same wave of heat as she lay in bed next to Mr. Potter.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hi guys! Thanks so much for those of you now following me and/or this story! Please do send me reviews so that I know what you think of this story's progression. I'd love to hear your thoughts and/or feedback.

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_November 10th, 2018_

Scorpius eyed Priscilla Deengrow from across the library. Her short brown hair obscured her face as she tilted her head forward, scribbling something into her textbook. She wasn't bad to look at, really. Her curls were light and bouncy, a pretty shine evidence of careful grooming. She sat about four yards away, at a private desk, one hand lodged firmly in the short tufts of hair shrouding around her left ear. She was pretty, really. With a small, button nose, and full, red lips. Though he couldn't see them from here, her eyes were a unique pale green, almost translucent, and her long lashes fell attractively over high, freckled cheeks when she looked down nervously (which was rather often, in Scorpius' presence).

He willed himself to feel something.

Two weeks ago, Al had conspiratorially confided in him that he and Sandra Thomas had kissed after Quidditch practice. He had fancied her since the start of term when they'd both made the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and Scorpius had known it was only a matter of time before Al approached her. Brazen as anyone he had ever met, Al often made him wonder whether or not the Sorting Hat had chosen correctly when it came to his best friend.

Now it was all Al could ever talk about. Sandra this, and Sandra that. It wasn't that Scorpius didn't like her. He honestly hadn't the slightest clue what she was like, having never spoken to her. She was cute, from what he could tell. Slim and dark with hair as black as Al's, but not nearly so messy. Her eyes were a hazel brown, and she always seemed to smile. Though her best feature, Scorpius thought, was her arms. Having trained for a position as Beater since the summer holidays, they were more muscular than the average girl's, and her muscles flexed nicely beneath her crisp white shirt whenever she lifted her heavy backpack.

The problem wasn't her. The problem was that the more time she spent with Al, the less in common he seemed to have with Scorpius. They had kissed several times since that first kiss two weeks ago, and Al seemed to think that it was of extreme interest to Scorpius. And though their kisses remained chaste, he found ways to describe them at great length. It was _moist,_ it was _soft_, it was _so good_. And Scorpius just wanted to thwack him over the head with one of the hanging portraits nearby.

When he had finally had enough and bitterly asked if they couldn't possibly talk about something other than his stupid kissing for once, Al had gotten a strange look for a moment before saying, "You aren't jealous, are you?"

The question had come as a surprise. He'd never thought of Sandra that way. Had barely even known she'd existed before Al started voicing his interest. And when he tried to imagine the two together, it didn't raise any untoward feelings. But he did know that if he heard one more story about the feel of her breasts against Al's chest, he was going to carve out his eardrums with a swift Gouging Spell.

"Why would I be jealous?" had been his tentative response, to which Al had replied, "You know, I saw Priscilla watching you again in Charms the other day. Maybe you should go talk to her some time."

"Yeah, maybe." He had said it only so that they could change the subject. But that was three days ago. Since then, Al had made an effort to talk less about the more intimate details of his and Sandra's affair. But their conversations felt awkward. And he could tell Al often censored himself, periodically opening and shutting his mouth as he considered his words. Perhaps, Scorpius thought, if he had a girl of his own to talk about, he wouldn't feel so awkward exchanging stories about small kisses shared in the darkened hallways of the castle. And then maybe their friendship would return to normal.

Now, sitting mere yards from Priscilla, he felt he ought to do something about his theory. Test it out. With a deep inhale, he stood and strode determinedly over to her. His frame cast a shadow across her book, and she looked up with a start.

"Hello," he said, abruptly wishing he'd thought this through a little more. He kept his face blank, unable to force a smile.

"Hi, Scorpius," she said breathily, as if she couldn't believe he was standing in front of her. A moment of silence passed between them. "Erm…. Do you- do you need to borrow something. I have an extra quill if you need it."

"Yes. A quill. I need one." He looked anywhere but at her face, sweating in his suddenly too thick robes.

"Oh. Okay, sure. Let me just—" she quickly rummaged through her bag, pulling out half a dozen different items in her haste to find her quill. "Here you go."

"Thank you. I shall return this shortly," he replied, desperate to get away.

"Y-you can keep it. I want you to keep it."

"Right. Thanks." And with that he walked back to the long table, sitting down and pretending to scribble away. He furtively shoved his own quill under a sheaf of parchment.

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_December 12__th__, 2018_

"Hey," Al chirped behind him, sliding into the seat beside him at the Slytherin table.

"Hey, yourself."

"Got any plans for the winter holidays?"

"I'm going on holiday with my family in France."

"Oh," Al muttered, his face dropping slightly. "The whole time?"

"No. Just over the Christmas holidays. We'll probably be back the 27th or so. Why?"

"Well it's just that I feel like we haven't spent as much time together recently, and I was hoping you might be up for coming over to Godric's Hollow during the holidays."

"But I thought you were going skiing with your family."

"Well we were, but just for Christmas. Like you. And anyway, I already asked my mum and dad earlier this year, and they both said you could come if your parents are alright with it."

"For how long?"

"I dunno. As long as you want. I just thought it would be nice to have some 'you and me' time, you know. You're my best friend. And I… sort of miss you." A blush threatened to overshadow Al's freckles. His eyes shifted around nervously.

Scorpius searched for words to say. It was true. They had been somewhat distant since his minor outburst over Sandra Thomas. He felt embarrassed about it, yet he was helpless as to how to resolve the awkwardness it had caused. He really didn't care that they were dating. He knew that. But something had bothered him, and he didn't feel capable of fixing the situation until he discovered the source of his discomfort.

But here Al was, open and vulnerable and asking for the renewal of their friendship, and Scorpius couldn't say no. He missed it, too. So he told him. And then he slugged him across the shoulder so as to feel more manly about the uncomfortable display of emotions.

"So you'll come." Al's smile was radiant.

"If my parents say yes, definitely."

"Woo!" And with that, Al tackled him to the floor.

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_December 31__st__, 2018_

"I don't see why you have to spend the New Year with Potter's family instead of your own," his father said in a snit, even as he walked Scorpius to the fireplace in his bedroom. His father had finally connected it to the Floo channel over the holidays at his grandmother's insistence. _"Draco, darling,"_ Grandmother Narcissa had said, _"Your son is a growing boy with a need to travel, and a little privacy while he does it, don't you think? At his age, you were screeching up a storm at having to always Floo under our supervision."_

Although his father had relented and set up Scorpius' private Floo station, he had forbidden him to use it without his express permission. And if he chose to supervise from time to time, Scorpius had better keep shut about any protests.

"Draco, don't pester him so," his mother chided, placing a calming hand on his father's shoulder. Her long, dark hair fell in delicate waves around her thin shoulders. Scorpius had always admired his mother's beauty.

"I'll pester him as much as I damn well please. This is just what I need. It isn't enough that Potter has the whole world at his feet, now he's vying for the attention of my own son."

"Oh, Draco," his mother '_tsked_,' rolling her eyes with an indulgent smile. "I did think you were over this whole school boy jealousy of yours."

"Jealousy? If anything it was a mutual rivalry, _dear_. And I am quite over it. I just don't think it right for a man's 12 year-old son to be spending the winter holidays away from home."

"Father, it's just the New Year. Anyway, it's not like you'll even be here. You said you and Mother were going to that fundraising ball for St. Mungo's. That's the only reason I asked."

"Yes, but we intended for you to come with us."

"But father, you know I hate those things. I never know anyone, and it's not like I can drink to pass the time."

"You're damned right you can't drink. You're twelve years old. Tell me you haven't already started sneaking spirits into Hogwarts with your friends!"

"Of course I haven't. I'm just saying…."

"Well stop, 'just saying' right this instant before I change my mind about this."

"Yes, father."

"Scorpius, darling, don't pay your father any mind. He's just feeling the first pangs of empty nest syndrome."

"Darling, what _are _you on about?"

"Empty nest syndrome. You know, when the chicks fly off to build their own nests. It's a Muggle term I learned from Antony Flanders' latest book, "_The Muggle within: A Guide to Finding Your Inner Self_."

"Oh, _do_ stop cursing us all with that wretched tripe you call literature."

"Mother, Father, I really should be going, now." Actually, Al had once again failed to specify a particular time of arrival, but he never had been one to take pleasure in his parents' bickering.

"Alright. I love you, and if anything goes wrong, you contact me right away," his father said, pressing a gold pocket watch into his hand. "Don't you dare take that off you, understood?" Scorpius nodded. It was magically connected to a matching pair that would hum if he turned the hands to six o'clock. When the vibrating pair was opened, a communication channel was opened, allowing them to speak to each other.

"You know, I am going to the home of the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Don't you think that means I'll be at least a little out of harm's way?"

"No, that's precisely the reason I think you're putting yourself directly _in_to harm's way. Potter's always had a knack for attracting danger. Trust me."

"Okay," he said, stifling a chuckle. His father glared at him, but it lacked venom, and Scorpius hugged him good-bye. "I'll see you both Sunday," he added, turning to his mother for a final hug.

"Yes, yes. And I'll be glad to be rid of you for two days."

"That's not true, Scorpius, we'll miss you very dearly. I'm sure your father will spend the entire night sulking in a corner, just counting the seconds till your return."

"Thank you, Astoria. That's exactly the image I want our son to have of his father. A pathetic little man, crying in the corner."

"Well, you're the one overreacting to every little act of independence."

"I am not-"

"Bye!" he yelled abruptly, smiling, as he grabbed a fistful of Floo powder and threw it in the fireplace. For the second time in six months, he allowed himself to be swept away by the green flames as he shouted "Godric's Hollow!"

A moment later, he stepped out of the fireplace and into the now familiar living room. He stood still a moment longer, waiting for someone to come get him, having heard him Floo in. Another two minutes, and he shifted his weight, wondering what the appropriate protocol was for walking around someone's house. The Potters didn't have a house elf to alert them of his arrival, and he couldn't hear a sound in any direction.

Finally, a door creaked open in what Scorpius remembered to be the kitchen. He made his way over and spotted Al's sister standing at the sink, rinsing something out of his view.

"Er… hello," he said, wishing he hadn't forgotten her name.

She let out a squeak, dropping the carrot she'd apparently been washing as she turned to him. "Oh, it's you." Her face suddenly turned a violent shade of red, and Scorpius hoped desperately that he hadn't offended her. His father had always told him the importance of using someone's name when greeting them.

"Erm, yes. Sorry to scare you. I just Floo'd in, but no one was around so I wasn't sure where to go. I'm—"

"Scorpius. I know," She smiled, then added, "I mean since you're Al's friend and all."

"Right, yeah. And you're… Al's sister."

"Lily."

"Right, Lily. I'm- I'm really sorry."

"No, it's okay." After another beat, she added, "I'm going to Hogwarts next year."

"Oh? That's great."

"Yeah. So I'll get to study with you and Al soon."

"Erm, that's good. School's… ah… fun." He could have smacked himself. So far his tally for successful conversations with girls was at an absolute zero. Desperate to change the subject, he added, "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, I forgot. We're all making a snowman outside."

"A what?"

"You know, a snowman. Hence the carrot," she added, bashfully picking it up from it's temporarily forgotten place on the floor. Scorpius still hadn't the faintest clue what she was talking about, but nodded, anyway, and proceeded to follow her when she turned towards the garden entrance and said, "Come on. You can help."

Stepping outside, he wished he had thought to have his father cast a Heating Charm on his clothes. There was snow everywhere, and not having anticipated going directly outdoors, he hadn't bothered to wear a robe. Instead, his charcoal jumper and black trousers barely shielded him from the cold.

A footpath had already been furrowed into the ground, and he followed Lily across it as they walked towards the Potter clan. Mr. Potter laughed as he crushed a ball of snow onto Al's head. James rolled his eyes. Mrs. Potter was nowhere in sight.

"Scorpius," Mr. Potter said, noticing him first.

Al looked up and shouted "Scor!" before racing up to him and tackling him to the ground. Again. Scorpius wondered how long it would be before he grew out of this dreadful habit. "I thought you weren't coming till supper!"

"Oh, well, my father has to leave early for a fundraiser he's attending, so I thought it would be okay if I came a bit early." Normally, he would have apologised for his presumption, but at the moment, he could only focus on trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Al's tackle had pushed him into the snow, ice cold water melting against his skin as it seeped through his clothes and down his neck. He pushed himself up with a shivering breath and tried to wipe off the snow that had caked into the fabric of his jumper.

"Scorpius, my god, are you out here without a Heating Charm?" came Mr. Potter's shocked voice.

"Erm…"

"Are you mad?" Added Al. "It's freezing!"

"No wonder you look like a tomato," James muttered from the side.

"James, stop it," Mr. Potter scolded half-heartedly. "Scorpius come here. Your lips are turning blue." Feeling distinctly awkward, he stepped forward towards his outstretched arm. Why did he always feel like a pathetic child when Al's dad was around? "Jesus," Mr. Potter hissed, as he felt Scorpius' neck with the back of his hand. The sudden warmth made him shiver as the man adjusted his hand to take a grip around the back of his neck. Scorpius wondered why he didn't just cast the charm already instead of trying to warm him with mere body heat (not that he was complaining, per se) when a sudden heat Flooded through his body, even where the snow still lay.

"Wha-?"

"It's a Wandless Spell Dad made up," Lily quipped. "Much better than a Heating Charm because it heats you from the inside instead of just throwing a wave of heat at you from the surface."

"Yeah, something like that," Mr. Potter chuckled, ruffling Lily's hair.

"Thank you," Scorpius said quietly before turning to the lumps of snow before him. "So… this is a snowman?"

"Yup!" chimed Al.

"It doesn't… look particularly like a man."

"That's because it's not supposed to. It's a Muggle thing. You just stack up three balls and then dress it up like a person, and voilà! You've got yourself a snowman!"

"Here," said Lily shyly, handing him the carrot she'd been washing earlier. "You can put the nose on."

He looked at it, perplexed, before James' snort had him glaring determinedly. If they wanted a carrot for a nose, he would give them a carrot for a nose. With perhaps a tad bit more force than necessary, he drove the pointed end of the carrot into the middle of the top ball, crossing his arms when he'd finished.

But another chortle from James and Al both had him turning to Mr. Potter questioningly. The older man was covering his mouth, and he made a little cough before saying in slightly stilted words, "Yeah, that- that's a good nose."

Al finally broke out in raucous laughter, and once again, he felt his face heat as he wondered what he'd done wrong. Taking pity on him, Mr. Potter explained, "It's just that the nose usually goes the other way around."

"But that doesn't make any sense. It's harder to drive in if you use the flat end."

"I know, but that's just the way it is."

Frustrated, he went to pull the carrot back out, only to be stopped by Mr. Potter's hand. "No. Leave it. I like it. This year, we'll have a different snowman. The snowman we made with Scorpius." He smiled brightly at him, and something jolted through Scorpius' chest.

"Whatever," James said, before walking towards the house.

"Hey, where are you going?" Mr. Potter looked liked he wanted to stop him.

"Inside. I'm bored. I'm going to Firecall Judith." That was his girlfriend, Scorpius remembered. A fourth year Gryffindor he had started dating at the start of autumn term. He wondered if James felt odd dating someone older. Scorpius wasn't sure he'd ever considered it.

A sigh pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Mr. Potter's saddened look. But he noticed Scorpius' gaze and quickly smiled, placing a reassuring hand on both his and Al's shoulders. "Come on, this snowman still needs a scarf and hat."

"And arms!" Lily shouted.

"You're right! How could I forget the arms!"

Al smiled in Scorpius' direction before rolling his eyes towards the spot where James had disappeared. "He's going through that _phase_."

Scorpius laughed and helped them look around for a fallen branch. The things Muggles came up with; he would never understand.

At dinner that night, things seemed very quiet. He stole a surreptitious glance between Mr. and Mrs. Potter, confused by their lack of eye contact. The two joined in on the conversation from time to time, but they never spoke directly to each other. He thought maybe he understood now why she hadn't helped make the snowman earlier that day.

They finished shortly, and Harry ushered them off, refusing to let them help clean. "Just be sure to come down 'round 11:00 so we can celebrate the New Year together!" He called after them as Scorpius and Al ran up the stairs to Al's bedroom.

"Phew!" Al exclaimed after he'd closed the door shut behind them. "Sorry about that."

"What do you mean?"

"My mum and dad. They've been acting rather odd lately. I was hoping it wouldn't happen while you were here."

"Oh, it's fine, really. Sometimes you just don't feel like talking. Happens all the time with my parents."

"Yeah. You're probably right. Anyway, I can't wait to drink myself silly tonight!"

"Your parents really let you drink on New Year's eve?"

"Well, only a glass of champagne, but I snuck a bottle into my room last year and they didn't notice."

Despite himself, Scorpius felt a thrill of excitement. He'd always wondered what it felt like to drink past sobriety, and the meagre sips of wine his father occasionally allowed him weren't hardly enough to achieve inebriation.

"I'm in."

They spent the next few hours prattling away until Al's dad called them down. "Come down you two, we're pouring the champagne!"

The two raced downstairs, Scorpius making sure to maintain a sense of decorum while Al practically threw himself down the banister. He couldn't imagine being quite that informal, even with his own father.

Al stole the glass his father had just poured, eliciting a sharp, "Watch it!" before Mr. Potter turned to Scorpius. "Would you like a glass, as well?"

"Yes, please."

He proceeded to pour out four more glasses, one each for Scorpius, Mrs. Potter, James, and himself. Then he poured Lily a glass of sparkling apple juice. "Come on, dad! Everyone else gets to drink champagne!"

"That's because everyone else is Hogwarts age. You know the rules, Lily. No champagne till your first year of Hogwarts."

"That rule doesn't make any sense at all!"

"Hey! Don't get shirty with me, young lady."

"But how will I be any more prepared to drink champagne one year from now than I am today?"

"I don't know. Maybe you won't be," Harry quipped, a warning look in his eyes. She quieted down, a glare still firmly in place. After a moment, he relented. "_One_ sip," he said, and he poured a gulp's worth of champagne into her juice. Though Scorpius suspected it wouldn't make any difference, Lily seemed appeased and hugged her father with a smile.

"Why aren't we celebrating with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione this year?" Lily asked after a curious sip of her champagne-apple juice. Al kicked her angrily in the shin, and she cried out.

"Al, leave your sister alone," Harry said sternly. Mrs. Potter turned angrily away. "Lily, we told you before. Your mum and I thought it best to just have a quiet celebration this year, okay?"

"You mean _Mum_ didn't want to do anything this year," James muttered.

"Hey, that's not fair. We both decided, okay?" Mr. Potter interjected. But Scorpius noticed he didn't move to comfort his noticeably ruffled wife. "Why don't we start a game of exploding snap, yeah?"

"That sounds like fun," Scorpius found himself saying. Anything to clear up the thickening cloud of tension. The conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Potter remained a bit strained, but they made a greater effort to talk to each other as the minutes went by. James seemed less moody, and even joined in the laughter a few times, as he furtively poured himself a second drink. Scorpius was fairly certain Mr. Potter only pretended not to notice.

They were into their third game of exploding snap when the countdown began. Everyone suddenly broke into smiles, and though Scorpius himself had never done such a thing, he found himself shouting out the numbers with them. "_Five-four-three-two-one- Happy New Year!_"

Al grabbed Scorpius into a hug, and Scorpius noticed Mr. Potter place a tentative peck on an open-eyed Mrs. Potter. He looked away, feeling that Al's dad wouldn't have appreciated his eavesdropping on their awkward embrace, and smiled at Lily, instead. Her eyes went wide before she smiled back, abruptly looking away.

"Okay, time for bed!" Mrs. Potter called.

"What?" James exclaimed. "But it's New Year's _Eve_!"

"Yes, and now it's done, so off to bed!"

James and Lily grumbled as they walked back up the stairs, but Scorpius was all too happy to have everyone sequestered away in their rooms so that he and Al could sneak up a bottle of champagne. He turned back to smile at Mr. Potter, feeling that he should thank him somehow for having invited him to their family celebration. He smiled back, though it didn't seem to quite reach his eyes.

He and Al waited a few minutes after everyone had gone to bed before quietly sneaking down to the kitchen. In a cabinet to the right, Al revealed a whole stock full of alcohol. He grabbed a stout bottle of champagne from the back and carefully pulled it out, shuffling the other bottles around a bit so as to fill in the sudden gap.

"Okay, let's go," he whispered, and they snuck back into Al's room. After a few minutes of confused fumbling, Al managed to open the bottle with a muffled _'pop.'_ He took a large gulp before passing it to Scorpius, who took a deep breath before doing the same.

They finished the bottle sooner than Scorpius had thought possible, and he found himself shaking the bottle out over his tongue for the last drop. Al giggled at his side. "Yeah, that'll work."

"Oh, shut it!"

"Shhhhh!" He whispered, louder than Scorpius' own words. "They'll hear us!" He looked around for a moment, and then added, "Let's turn on the telly to muffle out the noise." But as he stood to reach for the set, he stumbled and nearly fell to the floor. "Blimey. I'm right sloshed, I am."

Scorpius and Al laughed for several minutes until Scorpius shot up without warning and proclaimed, "I must use the bathroom this instant!"

"Yes, sir!" Al saluted him as he marched rigidly out of the room. Out in the hall, the world seemed to swim before him. Standing was much more difficult than lounging on Al's bed. He struggled for a moment, trying to remember which door led to the bathroom before turning to his right. It was just across from Al's parents' bedroom.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, it occurred to him that there was a whirring noise streaming out from the bathroom, but the door stood ajar and the light was already on, so he slipped into the bathroom without a second thought. A wave of steam hit him, and his slightly muddled mind decided he had made the right decision. _Mmm, warm_, he thought pleasantly.

But when he closed the door shut, a yelp sounded to his right, making him jump.

"Oh, Scorpius. Hello," Mr. Potter blinked out at him from underneath a stream of water. The glass shower door through which the man peeked out his head hid nothing of his naked form. Somewhere distantly he knew that he should look away or blush or apologise. Something. But his mind was hazy, his skin felt warm, and Mr. Potter was confusingly nice to look at. He stared at Mr. Potter's soaked chest for a long moment before the older man's throat cleared. "Erm, did you need to use the toilet?"

"Yes."

Another beat.

"It's just over there. To your left."

"Oh." He blinked and walked over to his left, where indeed, there was a toilet. Although he thought he should feel otherwise, he felt perfectly comfortable unbuttoning the crotch of his underpants to relieve himself. It felt good. When he had finished, he flushed the toilet, and turned back to Al's dad, who had resumed showering as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

"Mr. Potter," he called out.

"Yes, Scorpius?" He lowered the bar of soap he'd been using and peeked his head back out to look in his direction.

"Don't you have a shower in your bedroom?"

"Oh, well Ginny's using it at the moment, so I thought I'd pop into this one."

"You forgot to lock the door."

"Yes, well, I thought you'd all be asleep by now. In any case, it's a good thing I didn't, seeing as you had use for the bathroom, as well." He said with a smile. At Scorpius' raised brow, he added, "We're all men, Al. I'm sure you've seen a dozen other chaps in the shower already. Don't you play on the Slytherin Quidditch team?"

"I do."

"Well, there you go, then."

Scorpius gulped as he let his eyes drop momentarily. Even in his inebriated state, he didn't dare let his eyes linger on Mr. Potter's lower region, but he couldn't help the warm feeling that settled within him, this time lower than his belly.

"Scorpius?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Are you alright? You look a bit queer."

"No, I'm fine. I have to go to bed. Good night," he said in rush, stepping back into the hall before Al's dad could return the farewell.

Out in the hall, he was suddenly cold again. As he reached Al's door, he turned another glance back in the direction of the bathroom and noticed he'd left the door open, yet again. The crack was wide enough that he could see Mr. Potter's blurred form through the steam and glass. He swallowed. He glanced down to see that his member had swollen slightly, and was nudging at the fabric of his pants. He felt very dizzy.

Peeking in through Al's door, he was relieved to see his friend had fallen asleep, his lips parted, and the empty bottle now forgotten on the floor. He picked it up, hid it behind the bed, and slipped under the covers, making sure to turn away from Al. He willed the feeling between his legs to go away, and finally fell asleep moments later, the memory of Mr. Potter's wet form dancing in his mind.

The next morning, Scorpius awoke to the sound of groaning behind him. As he turned to see what all the commotion was about, a pang of pain rammed through his head. A dull throbbing began behind his left eye. He joined Al's miserable groaning.

"What the hell?" Al whined.

"I am never listening to you, again."

"It's not my fault. You wanted to do it, too."

"You didn't tell me it was going to hurt!"

"I forgot."

Scorpius flopped the pillow over his eyes, trying to shield himself from the too bright sun. "Do we really have to go to breakfast like this?"

"Yeah. My mum'll just come in and drag us out if we don't do it ourselves."

He let out a pained sigh, trying to think back to how much exactly he had had to drink. A wave of utter mortification washed over him as the memory of his encounter with Mr. Potter flashed behind his closed lids. "Oh, my god," he breathed out.

"You're telling me," Al murmured in response.

Had he really…? He had. _Oh, my god_. He couldn't face Al's dad. Not after that. "Hey, maybe I should just go home."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not feeling very well."

"Neither am I. You can't just abandon me to suffer alone!"

"Won't your parents notice that we're… not right?"

"Just say we stayed up late. Didn't get much sleep. They won't question it."

"… fine."

They slipped into their clothing and shuffled over to the bathroom to brush their teeth. Finally, Al led them down to the kitchen, where Scorpius refused to lift his eyes from the ground.

"Morning, boys!" Mr. Potter called out loud. Too loud.

"Morning, Dad."

"Morning, Mr. Potter."

"Well don't you guys look happy to be awake. Stay up late?"

"Yeah," Al mumbled, slumping into a chair to his father's left. Scorpius took the next seat over. Mr. Potter chuckled at their miserable state and stood to place two plates of breakfast before each of them. The smell of bacon gently woke him up. It smelled good, and the queasy feeling in his stomach actually abated at the thought of solid food in his stomach.

"Scorpius," Mr. Potter called out. Scorpius' hand stilled on his fork.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," he said, still not looking up.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday. Al and James are always walking in on me in the shower, so I figured it wasn't a big deal; but then I remembered that you were raised by, well, your dad, and he might not think it so normal for multiple people to use the bathroom at once."

"You used the toilet while my dad was in the shower?" Al exclaimed, breaking into peels of laughter despite the visible wince of pain it caused him. "That is too funny!"

James, who had just walked in, gave him a strange look before walking over to the oven to serve himself.

"Erm, I was really tired. I wasn't really thinking straight."

"Oh yeah, _really_ tired," Al said, laughing once again.

"Well, as long as you're alright with it. I don't want you to go home telling your father Harry Potter lounges around naked for all the world to see."

"Eww!" Lily whined from her seat to Mr. Potter's right. "Dad, no one wants to hear you talk about being naked!"

"You know, I was naked when I made you."

"Oh, my god, dad,_ stop!_" This time the complaint came from Al. A laugh escaped Scorpius' lips. His own father would never speak so candidly.

"_Anyway_," Mr. Potter continued, "I was thinking we could all go skating on the lake after breakfast. Any takers?" Scorpius wondered where Mrs. Potter was.

Later that night, as he brushed his teeth for bed in the bathroom, he heard muted sounds coming from Mr. Potter's bedroom. Mrs. Potter had not joined them on the lake, and had instead spent the day at her mothers', as he later found out. She had returned shortly after supper, and had promptly slipped into her bedroom.

Mr. Potter hadn't followed her. Instead he had stayed with Scorpius and his children to play another round of exploding snap. Only when everyone had finally retreated to their rooms did Mr. Potter follow suit. His muffled voice now grew louder, until the door opened, an angry frown on his lips. He spotted Scorpius, and a look of alarm crossed his eyes.

"Scorpius."

"Mr. Potter."

"Did you hear any of that?"

"What? No. The door was closed."

"Right. Well, you'd better get to bed soon."

"I will."

And with that he walked off down the hall, past Al's room, and down the stairs. He heard a door on the first floor open and shut, and he wondered where he was going. Scorpius walked back to Al's room, deciding not to mention what he had seen. Instead, he thought back to Mr. Potter's exit, thinking it peculiar that he seemed to prefer to do so many things the Muggle way. Surely it would have been easier to simply Apparate to wherever he'd been going.

"Hey, Scor, I'm right knackered. Would you mind if we just went to sleep?"

"No, that's fine. I'm tired, too." But it was a long time before Scorpius fell asleep, thinking about Mr. Potter, his hasty escape, and the strange feelings that came from thinking about any of it at all.

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**Author's Note: **Heh. Hope you all enjoyed the bit of Harry/Scorpius interaction. It's all still very innocent so far. Please send me your thoughts! What do you think will happen next? What would you LIKE to see happen next? I love feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

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_September 1__st__, 2019_

Scorpius looked up from his plate as Headmistress McGonagall called out, "Potter, Lily!" and sought out Al's face at the Ravenclaw table. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point over their two-year friendship, they had unconsciously agreed to always sit facing each other. He was glad for it, now, watching Al anxiously bite at his bottom lip as his sister approached the Sorting Hat. He wished he were sitting next to him, whispering words of reassurance at his side. Although what those words might be, he had no idea. He and Al had never discussed what house Lily might Sort into, and although house affiliation hardly held the significance it had during the pre-war years, it was only natural to hope that a sibling or fellow classmate would Sort into the same house as one's own.

He turned his gaze towards Lily, whose eyes stared unfocused, as every student's did in the moments when the Sorting Hat whispered its words of wisdom. She looked up, then, gaze roaming across the Slytherin table until it stopped fixedly on Scorpius. A jolt of surprise swept through him; and he forced himself to maintain eye contact. If she was looking for comfort or reassurance, Scorpius refused to turn her down. He'd certainly longed for a few words of comfort during his own Sorting, three years prior. Resolute, he smiled at her, hoping it put her at ease. (Although why she had looked to him instead of either of her two older brothers was beyond him.)

A look Scorpius could only describe as confident determination settled across her face, and after one beaming smile in his direction, the Sorting Hat made it's decision. "Slytherin!"

Gasps echoed throughout the hall as Lily strode over to her new house, a bounce to her step. She seemed oblivious to the increase in energy around her, a secret twinkle in her eyes. Scorpius, shocked as everyone else, nearly forgot to slide over to make room for her as she made her way to him, a shyer smile gracing her lips, now. It hardly mattered whether or not she was Sorted into Gryffindor, but no one had expected her to Sort into Slytherin. Scorpius doubted anyone in the whole ancestral tree of either of Lily's parent's families had ever been Sorted into Slytherin. It would surely have the students whispering for days, at least. Not with contempt or suspicion, certainly not. But with shock and disbelief, nonetheless.

"Lily," he said, realising that she hadn't received the resounding applause every other student had received, and desperately hoping to make it so that she wouldn't notice. "Congratulations. I'm glad you'll be in Slytherin with me. We're quite easily the best house. Objectively speaking, of course. And now we can get to know each other better."

"Thanks, Scorpius. I'm glad, too."

McGonagall called out the next first year, but the whispers continued, and it was awful to witness the mousy little boy receive only a half-hearted applause as the Sorting Hat declared, "Ravenclaw!"

"The prefects will be showing you 'round the castle once we finish, but if you like, I can give you a tour of the common rooms once you're done." Why wouldn't the whispers bloody end?

"Yeah, I'd like that," Lily smiled. At least she didn't seem to be nearly as affected by the stares and mutterings as Scorpius felt. In fact, she looked perfectly content, and Scorpius wondered if she'd actually hoped to Sort into Slytherin. He cast the thought aside with an internal scoff. He couldn't imagine that anyone in the Potter family had depicted a positive image of Slytherin house, even if Al had been named after one.

One by one, the rest of the first years were Sorted into their respective houses, and the feast commenced. Scorpius spent the meal entertaining Lily, feeling unexpectedly protective of her. He could only imagine that Al wished he could do the same, and his chest swelled at the thought of caring for his best friend's sister.

As the meal drew to an end, the prefects rose and walked to the ends of each house table, calling out for the first years to follow. When they had cleared, Scorpius rushed over to Al, still sitting contemplatively in his spot at the Ravenclaw table.

"Hey," he said, resting a hand on his shoulder. Al jerked out of his touch, staring in shock at Scorpius.

"What the hell just happened?"

"I- what do you mean?"

"It must be a mistake. How could she Sort into Slytherin?"

"I don't know," Scorpius replied, pushing away at the hurt and resentment that hovered in the back of his mind. Though they had never spoken explicitly of their house differences, Scorpius had assumed that Al hadn't cared. He had never hinted otherwise. Scorpius had failed to consider the notion that Al only didn't care as long as it wasn't one of his own family that ended up in Slytherin.

"Wait. I'm sorry. That came out wrong," Al said in a rush, disturbingly skilled at reading Scorpius' expressions. "It's just- it doesn't make any sense at all, you know? I mean, she's so… not Slytherin."

"And what exactly would that be?" Scorpius scowled, dropping the act now that he'd been (inevitably) caught.

"Scorpius, stop it. That's not what I meant. Even the positive stereotypes: cunning, persuasive, always getting what they want. She's not like that at all. She's quiet and honest, and she always takes the blame herself rather than rat me or James out. Honestly, I thought the hat would call Hufflepuff!"

Scorpius couldn't contain the laugh that escaped at that. "In that case, I think you should be happy she Sorted into Slytherin."

"Merlin." A heavy sigh escaped Al as he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Scorpius had noted must have come from Mr. Potter, who had done the same incessantly over his last visit just a few weeks ago. "Is she alright?"

"Actually, she seemed rather pleased. I'm not sure if it's real or just a front. Maybe she's a real Slytherin after all, fooling us so well this whole time that only the Sorting Hat could see her true self." At Al's sceptical frown, he added, "You never know."

"Well, listen, I know it's not your responsibility, but if you notice that she starts to get a little… out of sorts, will you, I don't know, talk to her or something? Make sure she doesn't freak out at the thought of telling my mum and dad?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Scor." He shoved him playfully. "I really didn't mean anything bad, before. About her being in Slytherin, I mean. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I think so." And he shoved Al back harder, pushing him clear off the bench.

"You arse! I'm going to _kill_ you," he screeched from his sprawled position on the floor, his robes a tangled mess over his limbs. His awkward arrangement made his threat considerably less ominous. Scorpius laughed a belting, joyful laugh and threw himself on the still trapped-by-his robes Al.

"Pinned you," he whispered into Al's ear. He shivered only slightly when it accidentally brushed his lips.

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_October 13__th__, 2019_

"_Fuck you_," Al mouthed with a badly suppressed grin from his seat two desks away. Scorpius had been sending him little origami swans enchanted to fly over to their intended recipient, pecking nastily at his neck until unfolded. His father had taught him the spell over the summer holidays, and while he'd felt somewhat flummoxed at his father's choice of origami (really, now, a _swan_? Couldn't he have chosen something a tad less… poncy? A dragon, perhaps? Scorpius mentally promised himself to learn the incantation for a scorpion. Perhaps he could even make it crawl along the recipient's body, stinging it all over until opened. Yes, that would be so much more effective…), he had been spectacularly delighted at the chance to silently pester Al during class.

This particular pestering note (now crumpled tightly in Al's persistently sweaty fist) had imparted a beautifully drawn image of Scorpius, stellar Keeper that he was, skilfully blocking Al's throw while Alan Farnsworth, the sixth year Slytherin caught the Snitch. As the image transformed, Al was left sobbing into his hands while Scorpius loyally comforted him, a wicked grin painting his lips. It was the fourth in a series of precisely one dozen depictions Scorpius had made following the Slytherin team's titanic, magnificent, wonderful, colossal, glorious (and did he mention _titanic_?) win over Ravenclaw during last weekend's Quidditch match. They had won, 240 – 70, and while it had been a good match up until the last 20 minutes (damn it if Al hadn't scored every one of those 70 points – Scorpius really did need to learn how to better anticipate his moves), in the end, Farnsworth had caught the Snitch near the bottom of the Ravenclaw's middle goal post while Fera Jordan, the Ravenclaw Seeker, had looked around with owl eyes from the top of the Slytherin stands. She hadn't stood a chance.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor Binns called out, somehow sounding stern even as he continued his monotone drone. "Why don't you enlighten the class since you seem so attentive."

"Er… enlighten?"

"Yes, I was discussing the 15th century Goblin Wars. Can you explain what incited the first rebellion?"

Normally, he would have been mortified to have been caught daydreaming, but as he looked around, it seemed unlikely that anyone else even realised he was currently on display.

"Er, no, sir. I didn't quite reach that chapter this week." The pale ghost '_tsked_' lightly before continuing his lecture. Scorpius returned to throwing pompous expressions in Al's direction.

When the class was finally dismissed, Scorpius packed his things and waited outside for Al. He didn't want to stay in that classroom any longer than necessary.

"You're an arse," Al threw at Scorpius as he made his way out.

"Yes, but a very skilled arse, you must admit." At Al's mocking smirk, he quickly amended, "for _flying_. Don't debase me with your tawdry sexual puns."

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking it. In that childish little teenage mind of yours. Honestly, just because one hits puberty does not mean one should let his mind fall to the wayside while genitalia and hormones take over."

"Oh, right. Because you don't always think about sex."

"Of course I don't. I'm much too busy thinking about all the ways in which Slytherin will once again trounce Ravenclaw come November."

"Prick."

"Slag."

"Wanker."

"Strumpet."

"Scorpius, you've really got to come up with new name calling material."

"You're just jealous my vocabulary is filled with class whereas yours is positively vulgar."

"Oh, and calling me a 'slag' is high class?"

"At least it doesn't call to mind images of male masturbation."

"Oh, right. I forgot. Because you never think about sex." Scorpius responded with a superior smirk, and hoped it seemed natural. He was loathe to admit that he actually did feel uncomfortable speaking about anything to do with sex. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of giving way to the oblivion of sexual pleasure. It was that he had tried and failed to reach any level of sexual satisfaction time and time again.

Overhearing one of his roommates shudder and moan behind the curtains of the quivering bed beside him late one night, Scorpius had immediately grown aroused. It was the first time he had felt compelled to masturbate. Thrown off by the lack of privacy in the Slytherin dorms and intimidated by the judging stares of the portraits hanging in his Manor bedroom, he had never wanted to risk the embarrassment of getting caught masturbating. Yet the knowledge of William Nott tossing off just feet away sparked something searing within him, and he had suddenly wanted nothing more than to finally rub his member hard and thick until he felt that glorious explosion everyone always bragged about.

He'd tried. He really had. But as he'd fisted his prick, thinking of the large breasts in the magazines Nott hid at the bottom of his trunk, he couldn't bring himself to climax. Worse. He actually felt himself grow softer. And as he determinedly continued his rapid rubbing, his prick grew hot and sensitive, and damn it, it had actually started to _hurt_. He had given up with a huffy little sigh and muttered angrily about decent people making the effort to use Silencing Charms for Merlin's sake. He doubted Nott's (by then peacefully snoring) form paid him any mind.

A quiet squeak brought him back to the present as he nearly toppled over Al's sister. "Oh, Lily, hi."

"Hello, Scorpius."

"Are you really still calling him that?" Al laughed.

"Not everyone feels the need to truncate my name to a hideous diminutive, _Albus_."

"Yeah, I like it." Lily joined, ignoring Al's look of disbelief. "It's very… sophisticated."

"Finally, someone who appreciates my class," he said, draping an arm across Lily's shoulder dramatically. "Lily, you are an absolute doll."

"Oh, please," Al interjected, shoving his arm away from Lily, who suddenly glared at her brother. Was this part of the act? If so, he liked her style – keeping up with dramatic charades to the end. Very Slytherin. Or perhaps that was just a Malfoy thing. Really, though, what was the difference?

Deciding to help out a fellow Slytherin actor, Scorpius persisted. "Unhand me, you raven fiend! I shall dote upon my lovely admirer as much as I please." He placed his arm back around Lily's shoulders, this time running his unoccupied hand through her wavy, red hair for extra dramatic flair. He even cooed a bit.

"Oh, god. You're bonkers," Al laughed, and then Scorpius threw himself at Al.

"Don't you fret, my good friend. I have enough love to spread about the entire Potter family. You may join in the blind admiration of my glorious person." His hand ran through Al's messy mop of hair. It occurred to him that Mr. Potter's hair might feel something like this, and he made sure to run his hand all the way from the top of Al's forehead to the nape of his neck. It felt surprisingly nice.

He felt giddy as Al finally shoved him away. Lily really was great fun, he thought, looking over at her pretty little smile. She held his gaze a moment longer than strictly necessary.

"Ahem," Al cleared his throat loudly. Lily snapped her head towards him, inexplicably red, and muttered something about writing a Potions essay before scurrying off. "Don't even think about it," Al said once they were alone, smiling; but Scorpius knew he meant it.

"Don't even think about what?"

"She's a first year. Barely. Not to mention the little detail about her being my younger sister."

"What are you talking about?"

"Scorpius, I'm not blind. I see the way she looks at you. Has done since she first met you."

"I don't know what you're-" Scorpius stopped himself, realising what Al meant. "Are you daft? That's ridiculous. _You're_ ridiculous. She's _eleven_, for Merlin's sake. I've never for a second thought about your sister that way, and I doubt she's wasting her time on silly romances, either. Honestly."

"Alright, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn me about what? Your dashing older brother machismo? Are you going to slay me to protect the sanctity of your virgin little sister?" Scorpius fluttered his eyes prettily as he personified his idea of a virgin.

"Yeah, something like that," Al laughed, and this time Scorpius knew he was only joking.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_March 9__th__, 2020_

Scorpius never understood how it could still be so cold in a month he often associated with spring. He shivered as he peeled off his clothes and jumped into the still tepid stream of water. What the hell was the point of magic if they were forced to endure lukewarm water like common Muggles? He let out a frustrated breath as he stepped back from the spray and waited for the water to heat up. Next time, he'd leave the water running a solid ten minutes before his shower – water conservation be damned.

It was one of the few drawbacks of living in Slytherin, he contemplated, as the water took its sweet ass time. He felt perpetually surrounded by a damp cold, the dungeon walls slightly mossy with what he imagined was the surrounding lake. He wondered what would happen if he blasted a hole right through the dungeon walls. Would slimy lake water flush in, the Giant Squid getting suctioned in and thrashing around fruitlessly in the mostly air-filled room? He shuddered at the thought. He still hadn't learned to swim. Then again, Hogwarts had been fairly demolished during the war if his updated _Hogwarts: A History_ was anything to go by, and he didn't remember any mention of the dungeons Flooding. Perhaps the dungeons weren't surrounded by the lake.

A sound to his left pulled him from his internal ramblings and he stepped back behind the shower curtain. Despite having been on the Quidditch team for two years now, he still hadn't grown accustomed to being naked in front of others. He changed in and out of his clothes as quickly as possible, and never bathed in the communal locker room showers, preferring instead to make his sweaty way back to the dungeons to shower in privacy.

The shower beside his turned on. A sharp inhale of breath was followed by a hissed, "Fuck!"

"You're telling me. I don't know why they can't just keep the Heating Spells permanently in place." His own stream had only just finally warmed up.

"Malfoy?"

"Nott." He wished he hadn't said anything. He didn't particularly enjoy holding bathroom conversations. And he definitely didn't enjoy having naked shower room conversations.

"Is your water heated all the way?"

"Yes, but I've had to wait an eternity."

"Move over. I'm coming in."

"Is that a joke?" The reply came in the negative as William Nott forced his way into Scorpius' now steaming shower stall. He most definitely did not squawk. But he did make a sound. Of great displeasure. "What are you doing? Get out of here! There isn't even enough room for us both – the stream is too small!"

"Haven't you ever heard of a Magnifying Spell?" He doubled the circumference of the stream with a neat swish of his wand. "See? More than enough room." And with that, he turned his back on Scorpius to reach for the shampoo dispenser on the wall.

Scorpius felt… a strange mix of emotions. He was outraged, of course. And mortified. This was entirely inappropriate. It was indecent for two men to be naked in such close proximity. How was he supposed to move around and shower without bumping into this oaf of a Wizard beside him? It was just like him. Masturbating on a nearly daily (or should he say nightly?) basis without ever bothering to cast a _Silencio_ around his curtains; even going so far as to leave his curtains slightly open at times. It was disgusting. His vulgar groans tumbled out towards Scorpius, teasing him, making him hard and aching and mocking his inability to pleasure himself. Nott was a selfish bastard, and Scorpius wished he would just get the hell out of his stall!

He was on the verge of throwing in the towel (so to speak) and moving over to the next stall to wait another chilling few minutes for the water to warm up when Nott turned to him and said, "Malfoy, would you grow a pair and bloody wash yourself, already? I don't see what all the fuss is about. I thought you might have a tiny problem, if you know what I mean. Flint's always laughing about how you refuse to shower with the team. But I'm looking at it, and you're doing just fine. So cheer up, mate. Your prick is perfectly adequate."

Scorpius wanted to scream. How dare Flint spread such rumours. How dare the other Slytherins laugh about the hypothetical size of his penis! It was a decent size. More than decent – Nott had said so himself! Not that that dirty slag's word was anything to go by. But still. He had woken up to enough morning erections to know – even if he couldn't quite bring himself all the way. Which only meant that he was probably capable of getting even harder and larger than he himself knew. His prick was awesome!

Suddenly desperate to prove his confidence over said awesome prick, he roughly shoved Nott aside as he grabbed for his soap. Unlike _some_ people, he actually appreciated quality toiletry, specially sent to him by his mother every other month. He carefully lathered on the vanilla-scented soap (no, vanilla is not only for girls, thank you very much) and let the heavy stream wash it away. He was enjoying his shower. He wasn't even a little bit tense. He wasn't going to let Nott under his skin. Not even when he squeezed out a dollop of Scorpius' soap without even asking. Not even when he carefully sniffed it, and chuckled almost sneeringly, saying with a raised brow, "Vanilla? Really?" Not even when he proceeded to lather on said soap, despite having just ridiculed him for it. And definitely not when his hand dropped down to his member, and Scorpius watched him pull the puckered foreskin back, thoroughly washing the heavy flesh peeking almost curiously out.

He swallowed. Nott turned to slip his soapy fingers between the crack of his arse, sliding them up and down, the fleshy cheeks seeming to swallow each finger, one by one. The water was too hot. He felt strange, and the heat was certainly getting to his head because why else would he feel so dizzy and hot and oh, my god, was that? Yes. Yes, it was. Perfect, just bloody damn perfect, because this was exactly the time to be getting an erection!

Scorpius turned to hide himself. It didn't seem Nott had noticed. He reached around the curtain and pulled on his towel, not caring that the still streaming water soaked it. He ignored Nott's derisive chortle as he raced out of the shower room and back towards his own bed. He really hated that filthy, filthy wanker. _Literally_, came an irritating afterthought.

He pressed one hand delicately between his legs. "Fucker," he muttered. Still hard as a rock.

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_August 2nd, 2020_

It was during the summer after his third year that Scorpius began to entertain the idea that he might possibly, maybe be perhaps just a little bit gay. Maybe. It was just a thought. A teensy tiny insignificant one at that. Nugatory, really. Still. It was possibly true.

As had become tradition since the first summer following his friendship with Al, he came over to spend a few days with the Potters, Mr. Potter's birthday being the flag by which the two marked the start of his visit. Over the years, his stays had grown longer, and this time, his stay had been set for five days. Two more to go.

Normally, he wouldn't have been in such a rush to return to the Manor. And really, he wasn't. It was just that he needed to get away from Godric's Hollow. And it only maybe had everything to do with Mr. Potter.

The birthday party had gone well. Great, in fact. Scorpius had had a fabulous time catching up with Hermione Weasley, easily the cleverest Witch (or Wizard) he had ever met. Ronald Weasley was a bit more difficult to maintain a conversation with, what with his insistence on talking with a full mouth and constantly making snide comments about his father (to which Mrs. Weasley always responded with a sharp kick. Honestly, what she saw in that man, Scorpius could not even begin to divine.). Even Rose had begun to grow on him, though he still kept his guard up around Hugo. Scorpius was fairly certain Mr. Weasley's more bigoted thoughts had seeped their way into Hugo's mind, and he wasn't altogether convinced Hugo wouldn't turn on him the moment he tried to initiate a genuine friendship.

The cake had been delicious. Apparently, Molly Weasley had baked and decorated the colossal thing herself; and while he couldn't say that it surpassed the fine delicacies specially imported from France that his grandmother often bought him, it was a pretty close second. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had even allowed him and Al two glasses each of Merlot as they gazed fondly into each others' eyes, Mr. Potter's hand lovingly caressing the back of her neck as she poured. It had only made Scorpius a little uncomfortable, that completely inappropriate display of affection. His own parents would never have been so salacious. Truth be told, he was rather scandalised. The wine helped.

But the next day, the sun had shone bright, and Mr. Potter had suggested they all go for a swim. At Scorpius' noticeably silent response, Mr. Potter had smiled, his arm flexing around Mrs. Potter's waist as he'd said, "Don't worry, Scorpius. I haven't forgotten you. I was actually thinking I'd like to teach you how to swim, if you'll let me. I never got the chance with my own kids. I swear, it's like they got all their practice swimming in the womb."

"I'll attest to that!" Mrs. Potter exclaimed, rubbing her belly as if feeling the kicks of pregnancy all over again. Mr. Potter laughed and kissed her slowly, their lips pressed together for a long moment as he rested his own hand on her empty belly.

"Okay, I think that's enough!" Lily shouted, though she was smiling as she said it.

Al looked over at Scorpius and whispered, "They've been like that all summer. I don't know what happened, but ever since we got off the train, they haven't argued even once. It's actually really nice."

Scorpius smiled because he knew it was expected.

"So what do you say, Scorpius? Will you let me teach you?"

"Yes." Anything to make them stop their awful lasciviousness.

Dressed in appropriate swimwear, Scorpius made his way to the lake's shallow end. It felt nice, just as nice as he'd remembered, and he wished today's swimming lesson weren't doomed to be the inevitable failure he knew it was destined to be. Al and Lily had already thrown themselves into the deep end, laughing and screaming and splashing each other across the lake's centre. James had opted to spend the day with his older cousin, Teddy (who presumably allowed him to partake in numerous illegal adult things). Mrs. Potter lay sprawled on the grass, a book in one hand while she attempted to tan. Scorpius thought it was more likely that she would turn into one giant freckle. He tried not to think about why he sort of hoped it were true.

"You scared?" Mr. Potter asked behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"No." To his credit, Mr. Potter tried to look like he believed him.

"Okay, so, why don't we step in just a little deeper?" At Scorpius' hesitation, he held out his hand. When Scorpius grabbed it, he was glad to note it wasn't sweaty like Al's own always were. He should have guessed he'd gotten that trait from the Weasley side of the family. Scorpius trashed the thought immediately, and willed himself to stop thinking so hostilely towards Mrs. Potter. She was kind and nice and happy, and she had been nothing but absolutely polite to him. He liked her. He did.

"Okay, now," Mr. Potter continued. "The first thing to do, I think, is to learn how to float. That way you'll build a sort of trust with the water. If all else fails, you can always float." Scorpius raised a delicate brow sceptically, wondering whether or not he really expected him to believe that. "Sorry, I read it in a book I found at Flourish and Blotts. Something about magical trust and whatnot. I thought of you when I saw it, and I tried to remember its advice. I'm afraid I wasn't very successful." The twist of his lips looked slightly chagrined, but his laugh was easy, and Scorpius relished the thought that Mr. Potter had thought of him. Though he couldn't quite fathom why.

He thought he might be able to guess exactly why once Mr. Potter took him in his well-defined arms, asking, "are you ready?"

"What do I have to do, exactly?" He hated that his voice suddenly sounded an octave too high. He wasn't sure if it was more from fear or… something else.

"Nothing. Just lie back. I'm going to hold you. I promise I won't let go until I tell you. Alright?" He found himself staring into Mr. Potter's eyes for a long time before he nodded minutely. They were nice, he thought, nicer maybe even than Slytherin green.

Though he had agreed, he found he could not actually make himself move, and so after a long, helpless moment, Mr. Potter pressed one hand behind the small of Scorpius' back and gently pushed forward against his chest with the other. Scorpius thrashed, uncomfortable with his feet leaving the ground. He twined his arms around Mr. Potter's neck and just barely checked himself from wrapping his legs around, too. He wasn't twelve any more.

"Woah, it's okay. Scorpius, I told you I've got you."

"I know. I just. I can't lean back _and_ let my feet off the ground at the same time. It's too many things at once." He couldn't look him in the face any more. He felt humiliated. He should never have agreed to this.

"Okay, how about this. We'll do one thing at a time. First you'll take your feet off the ground, and then you'll lean back."

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" He snapped, abruptly regretting it and muttering a mute apology.

Mr. Potter grinned down at him. "Don't worry. I get a little defensive, too, when I'm… not scared." He winked charmingly, and Scorpius felt an altogether horrifying flutter in his chest. "Keep your arms around my neck and lift your legs so I can hold you from underneath." It was an embarrassing proposition. Like a bride being carried across the threshold to her new home. He was no one's bloody bride.

But Mr. Potter smiled sweetly, and his arms really did feel quite nice right where they were. He relented, and allowed Harry – no, Mr. Potter – to quite literally sweep him off his feet. He most certainly did not want to rest his head against his chest.

"That's brilliant! Now just straighten out across the water, and I'll keep my arms right here. I'm still carrying you. You won't go under, I promise."

Reluctantly, Scorpius straightened out, and if his hands dragged across Ha- Mr. Potter's chest a little longer than necessary, it was only because he was trying to catch his balance. Finally flat against the water, he felt stiff and completely insecure and if Mr. Potter pulled his arms away now, by Merlin, he was going to ineffectively punch at his too muscular chest until he maybe made the skin a little red.

"How do you feel?"

"Like this is the stupidest thing I've agreed to since Hannah Meadows convinced me to wear her dress."

"Erm… what?" Mr. Potter laughed. Scorpius felt it in the shaking arms beneath him.

"I was four."

"Hey, you can wear a dress any day of the week. Quite frankly, I don't see much of a difference between them and robes." Which was stupid, Scorpius thought, because there was a heck of a lot of difference between dresses and robes. For one, the especially fancy robes had considerably nicer frills than silly _dresses_. "Do you feel ready now?"

"No."

"That's fine. You can just float here a little longer. You're pretty much floating already. My hands are just keeping you in place."

"Wait, you mean I'll _move_ while I'm floating?" Scorpius exclaimed, suddenly bending and no longer wanting to try this floating plan.

"Hey, hey, hey. You have to keep straight. I promise, if I see you floating anywhere near the deep end, I'll pull you back in. Right now, you're in waist-deep water. That's it. I'm standing right here; you can see for yourself. You're fine. Worst case scenario, you don't manage to keep afloat, and you put your feet back on the ground. Okay?"

"O-okay."

"On the count of three, I'm going to let go, okay? You shouldn't feel any change. Ready?"

"Mostly."

"One… two… -"

"Are you finally going to do it?" Came Al's excited yell, and Scorpius bent right back into Mr. Potter's arms.

"Jesus, Al! You need to be quiet for a moment, alright? Scorpius needs to concentrate."

"Still as dramatic as ever," Scorpius heard Al mutter, but he remained quiet after that. He tried to forget the fact that there were now several pairs of eyes watching him.

"Okay, let's try again. Straighten out… Good. Okay, now, on the count of three. One… two… three," Mr. Potter whispered, and Scorpius waited for him to remove his arms. And waited. And he really wished that Mr. Potter would hurry up and get it over with already because the longer he waited, the harder it was going to be to keep his nerves, and – wait a second. He swivelled his eyes around, terrified to move his head lest he ruin the balance he had somehow achieved. From the very edges of his periphery, he realised that Mr. Potter was no longer directly by his side, which must mean…. He was floating (!). He was really floating. And he wasn't suddenly drowning and spluttering and sinking deep into the bottom of the lake. He was floating, and he laughed, exuberant, only to suddenly lose his equilibrium and thrash about for one wild, terrifying second. Then his feet found the ground, and he was standing, waist deep, and he was okay.

He looked up at Mr. Potter, and beamed and laughed and threw his arms around the older man, thrilled. A few yards away, Al and Lily whooped and cheered, and he thought that maybe he could learn to swim after all.

Which was perhaps a trifle more optimistic than Scorpius should have thought. He spent the next twenty minutes alternately clinging to Mr. Potter's neck and thrashing at the lake floor. Mr. Potter finally gave up, saying with a crooked grin, "Maybe we should pick this up another day."

Scorpius was all too happy to agree. He didn't even care that it meant the loss of Mr. Potter's arms around him. Really.

Later that night, it happened.

Deep in the shadows of sleep, he had dreamed of strong arms and green eyes and a well-defined chest. A charming wink and a reassuring smile that twisted into an 'O' of pleasure as dry hands rubbed low between Scorpius' legs. And he rubbed himself against those hands and pressed his own hands against that perfectly round mouth, feeling out the delicate lips and rugged stubble with his fingers before letting out his own little "o" of bliss as he came and came and woke up to his own voice moaning weakly, "_Harryyy…."_

He jerked to the side, instantly terrified, and then breathed a sigh of relief. It was a truly loving god that had gifted him and Al both with growth spurts over the spring term months. They no longer fit together on Al's bed, and Scorpius lay on a separately conjured mattress two feet away. Al had not felt his sleep-induced writhing. He continued to snore softly, oblivious to Scorpius' panic.

He lay his head back down, staring at the ceiling and willing himself to calm down. Al had not heard. It was okay. No one had heard. No one but Scorpius himself, and he didn't have to grant the dream meaning if he didn't want to. It could mean nothing. Nothing at all.

Or it could mean that he might possibly, maybe be perhaps just a little bit gay. Maybe. He didn't particularly want to think about it right now. Except that it had felt exceedingly good, and if thinking about Al's dad was the only way to make it happen, he might be willing to do it again. Might even enjoy it. But that was just a thought, and actually, he might really hate it.

He couldn't let this happen again. What if the next time, his sounds woke Al up? What if he heard Scorpius calling out his dad's name? He tried to push the thoughts away and fall back to sleep. But as he shifted, a disturbingly wet feeling between his legs pulled a grimace from his lips. One eye squinted shut, he carefully lifted his pyjama bottoms to peek in. Everything looked the same in the dark. Squeezing both eyes shut, he reached a hand in to feel a sticky wetness. He pulled it back to see a thick, white liquid painting the tips of his middle and index finger.

This was come, he thought. He pulled the covers all the way up to his head, and under their protective shield, sniffed. He barely suppressed his grunt of disgust. And yet, he needed to know. Hesitant but resolute, he stuck out his tongue and licked a cautious stripe up his two shaking fingers. His reaction was instantaneous. He jerked his hand away, leaped out of bed, and bolted to the bathroom to clean himself up. And his mouth. Merlin, he never wanted to taste that again.

He didn't fall back asleep till the sun had started peeking over the little hill in Godric's Hollow.

That was yesterday. He still had two more days with the Potters. One more night.

One more night.

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_October 31__st__, 2020_

Scorpius had never particularly liked the Hogwarts Halloween feast. The house elves used the holiday as an excuse to throw in all their surplus of pumpkins. Everything was pumpkin this and pumpkin that. Pumpkin soup, and pumpkin bread, and pumpkin juice, and pumpkin pie. Hadn't they ever heard of tempering things out with a _variety_ of foods? He scowled moodily into his goblet, slurping down his sodding pumpkin juice.

"Everything alright?" Lily asked, peering over at him from his left.

"No. I'm bloody sick of all these pumpkins. Everywhere. On the tables, all over the staff level, in every food item! It's ridiculous."

Lily giggled attractively behind a napkin. Her freckles spread adorably across her nose, her green eyes squinting in amusement. They were so like Harry's eyes; something about her expression elicited a smile from his lips. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Scorpius," she whispered, so breathy he snatched his hand back as if burned.

"Sorry," he muttered before rising to leave.

"Wait," she exclaimed, slightly frantic as her arm gripped just above his left elbow. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous.

"What is it?"

"I was wondering… if you might help me with my Charms homework later tonight. I've got an exam coming up, and I don't feel even the slightest bit prepared. You're always so good at Charms."

"Oh, sure. When would you like to meet?"

"Half nine if that's alright with you. Shall we do it in the common room?"

Something in the pit of his stomach warned him it was a terrible idea. At half nine on Halloween night, the Slytherin common room would be dreadfully empty, and something about studying alone at night with Al's sister rang horribly wrong.

"Let's make it the library. I've got some reading to do, anyway, so I'll be there all night." It was a lie, and now he would have to spend the whole of Halloween night in the library, but it was better than the alternative. At least he would finally get some of his History of Magic reading done. He couldn't wait to drop the class next year.

"Oh, alright."

"Well, see you then."

"Yeah, thanks."

He exited the Great Hall. A few feet past the door, a hand yanked him roughly from behind and he nearly jumped in surprise. "Al."

"What was that?" He asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What was what?" How had he never noticed how very dusty the castle floors were?

"You know what. Were you just _flirting_ with my sister?"

His head jerked up. He most certainly had _not_ been flirting with Lily. But he could see how it had looked that way. Had in fact felt the tension coming off Lily in waves. He wasn't entirely oblivious. He had been miserably aware of her attention ever since Al had so bluntly pointed it out the year before. But he had hoped she would grow out of it, move on once she realised Scorpius was clearly just a friend, a brotherly figure, even. She had not; and it was a constant battle to maintain her good favour while repeatedly rejecting her subtle hints and advances.

He took far too long to reply, and Al took it as an affirmation of his accusation.

"You know, she's not a first year, any more."

"What?"

"She's my sister, but she's also her own person. And so are you."

"Al, I really don't know what you're getting at-"

"Blimey! Do I have to spell it out for you?" At Scorpius' persistently blank stare, he continued, "Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you two, you know…."

"You're barmy, you know that?"

"Look, it happened that way with my mum and dad. She was my dad's best friend's little sister. And now Lily's your best friend's little sister. Maybe… it could really work. She certainly likes you, and… It looks like you like her, too. Or don't you?"

"I- I don't know, Al. I mean, she's your sister."

"So we've established."

"I just-"

"Look, I'm not telling you to marry her. In fact, the whole idea still seems completely bizarre to me. I'm just saying. If it turns out that something is going on between you two, it's okay by me." Scorpius wasn't sure that it was particularly okay by _him_, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. He shook his head and smiled. "Now James is another story altogether."

He laughed. "You really have gone mad. Listen, I'm headed to the library. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Okay." Scorpius flashed him another grin before heading for the stairs.

Searching around the library, he spotted Priscilla Deengrow. For once, she had chosen a place at one of the large communal tables. A glance to his right explained that it was only because all the individual desks were already occupied. Presumably by Ravenclaws. Honestly.

He considered his options before pulling out the chair directly across from her. He had an hour till Lily arrived, and with any luck, Priscilla would still be around by then. It wasn't that he knew for certain that he wanted nothing romantic to occur between him and Lily, but he wasn't prepared to make any sort of commitment tonight. He hoped Priscilla's presence would ward off any such possibility.

"Scorpius," she whispered with delight as he took his seat.

"Priscilla," he nodded in acknowledgement before pulling out his History of Magic textbook and opening to chapter five. They shared a companionable silence for a long while before a note appeared over the right corner of his book. It said in curly script, _Look to your left._ He looked up at Priscilla, curious, before she nodded her head with a smirk. He followed her gaze, and promptly snorted. Madame Pince had fallen asleep over her desk, mouth agape, and her messy bun drooping to the side.

"I don't think I've ever seen her without a nasty look on her face." She whispered conspiratorially to him.

He grinned at her. "Neither have I."

A beat. "So why are you studying in the library on Halloween night? Doesn't your mother usually send you a package of sweets and fireworks?"

"How do you know that?"

"I've seen you set them off on the grounds before," she murmured with a blush.

"Oh. Well, I guess I just don't feel like setting them off this year. Anyway, Filch always yells at me for it. Though I don't know why. They clean up after themselves."

She shrugged, watching him for another moment before saying, "You know, we've never really spoken before."

"That's not true. We spoke just the other day in Care of Magical Creatures."

"Asking me to pass the Giant Skrewt soothing balm doesn't count."

"Well, we're talking now." Scorpius didn't like where this was going. Why couldn't they continue to sit in studious silence?

"Are you excited for the Hogsmeade trip this weekend?"

"I suppose."

"Are you going with anyone?"

"Well, yes. Al and I always go together."

"I meant anyone… special?"

"Oh. Erm, no."

"Would you like to?"

"… what?" The library felt very hot.

"Maybe you should think about taking someone special." Her hand had somehow snuck its way over to his, and she rubbed the side of his left hand with her index finger. She never once broke eye contact with him.

"Ahem." Scorpius jerked his hand back as Lily dropped her Charms textbook on the table with a loud thud. "I thought you were going to help me study for Charms."

"I was. I mean, I am." He stood. "Perhaps we should move over so we don't bother Priscilla with our talking."

But Lily didn't follow him as he made to move. Instead, she gazed down at the short-haired brunette with a barely suppressed glare. "You're a Ravenclaw, right?"

"That's right." She returned, holding Lily's stare. "And you're a second year. Right?"

Now Lily did glare outright as she picked her book back up and led the way to a table a few feet away. The two spent the next hour in stilted conversation, Scorpius trying to ease the mood and Lily periodically throwing glares in Priscilla's direction. It was rather uncalled for, Scorpius thought. After all, it wasn't as if she had any claim over him. Not yet, anyway.

Finally, Scorpius couldn't take it any more and sighed, "Do you want to go back to the common room? I don't really think we're going to make much progress tonight."

Her face went pensive for a moment before nodding her head. "Yeah, it's getting late, anyway. We'll miss curfew."

They packed their things and headed out of the library together, making their way down to the dungeons in silence. At the entrance, he turned to her.

"Lily, pl-" He was shocked into immobility as a pair of wet lips pressed against his. They were soft and puckered, and they felt inexplicably odd against his own dry and unmoving ones. He didn't know what to do, so he kept still, waiting for her to pull back. She did, with a sigh, her eyes downcast.

"You're not interested, are you?"

"Lily, it's not that-"

"Scorpius, please don't make this any more embarrassing for me than it already is. Look, it's fine. You can go back to that Ravenclaw fourth year and snog her silly for all I care."

"Lily, please. Don't be like that. I'm not even remotely interested in Priscilla Deengrow."

"Then why won't you kiss me back?"

"It's just—you're Al's sister."

She scowled, "And what has that got to do with anything?"

"Well, don't you think it would be strange? Me dating my best friend's sister? I mean, things like that always end up so complicated." He was pulling at straws, he knew, but Lily had finally confronted him outright, and there were only two outcomes he could see occurring in the next few minutes. Either he accepted her advance, or…. Or he threatened to ruin everything. He could only imagine how incredibly awkward things would be between him and Al after Lily went crying to him about his rejection. He wouldn't ever be able to go back to the Potters, that was for sure. Or at least not for a very many years to come. And he so desperately wanted to avoid that.

"I don't think it's strange at all! I like you, and if you like me, well then, I don't see why we shouldn't at least give it a go."

"Lily." His voice was pleading. He didn't know what else to say. Yes, he had been curious to experiment with girls, especially following that terrifying night over the summer holiday, but using Al's sister to explore his sexuality seemed entirely the wrong thing to do.

She shook her head with a grimace, her eyes wet and red. Her nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, but Scorpius saw it, and he couldn't let her go. Not like that. He wouldn't be able to sleep knowing she'd be crying just a few rooms away. So he did it. He stifled the panicky voice in his head, grabbed her arm as she turned to leave, and pressed his lips against hers once more. It was awkward. Painfully so. He wasn't sure quite how much to pucker and he'd caught her lips a little too high, a little too close to the base of her nose, and it felt entirely too forced. But Lily made a breathy little sigh beneath him and realigned their lips, kissing back and grabbing at the front of Scorpius' robes.

He opened his eyes for a moment, Lily's still closed, wondering just how long a kiss was supposed to last. He felt incredibly self-conscious, standing in the hallway just outside of the Slytherin entrance, his lips frozen in a puckered position. He pulled back and rubbed at the back of his neck, not knowing where to go from there. He licked his lip experimentally, and thought it should have been more wet for all the sliminess of that kiss. He'd thought only tongue kisses were supposed to feel so… slippery.

A hand brushed against his cheek, and he looked down to see Lily positively beaming. "I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, she whispered the password and stepped inside. He waited another seven minutes before following her in. What the hell had he just gotten himself into?

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_December 27__th__, 2020_

Scorpius tried not to fidget as Lily rested her head against his chest. His back lay pressed against the Potter's overstuffed couch while Al and his dad played chess on the carpet. He tried to convince himself his discomfort had nothing to do with Lily. Really, he'd just never been a fan of public displays of affection.

Scorpius actually did enjoy the feel of someone pressed snugly against him. He liked to run his fingers through Lily's silky hair. And he liked the feel of her hand running little circles along his chest. But it was deeply unsettling to feel the soft curve of her breasts pressed against his abdomen. They dug deeper against him with every breath she took.

It was strange. He had never noticed how obviously soft and curvy women were until he had officially started dating Lily. Every time they hugged or sat close to each other, he felt her tender flesh; the soft swell of her hips against his thigh, the curving bulge of her breast against his chest, back, side. He was only glad that he wouldn't, as he'd once imagined, have to discuss the wonders of women's bodies with Al. Because this was Al's sister, and no one in their right mind would want to discuss their best friend's romantic experiences with his sister.

Though it had been a bit uncomfortable at first, Al had quickly made the best of the situation by teasing them incessantly about their "blatant" love for each other. Instead of awkwardly looking away every time Lily pressed a kiss into Scorpius' lips, Al made a great display of comical disgust, belting, "Get a room!"

He was glad they hadn't quite needed one, yet. He knew from the brags and boasts of the Slytherin boys' room that fourth year boys tended to be rather experienced. (What had happened to the more innocent times of his father's youth?) Al himself had shared his experiences experimenting with under the clothes fondling. Luckily for Scorpius, the sexual inclinations of a twelve year-old girl were worlds away from those of a fourteen year-old boy, and Lily hadn't ever hinted at wanting to take their relationship beyond the chaste kiss and hand holding.

Still, he felt exceedingly out of sorts, sitting in the Potter living room two days after Christmas with the youngest Potter child draped across his chest, the entire family present. Well, most of them, anyway. James had gone off to Romania with one of his uncles (Scorpius could never remember all their names), and Mrs. Potter was in the kitchen setting up a tray of tea and biscuits. He almost wished she wouldn't come back for all the tension she brought when she and Mr. Potter were in the same room. They were no longer the blissful couple of four months prior, and Scorpius hated that he didn't feel even a little bit sad about it.

He looked up when Al let out a strangled moan, his last rook demolished by the hurdling sword of his father's knight. Mr. Potter laughed, saying, "You're going to have to be quicker than that if you want to beat your old man." Al glared contemptuously at him.

Scorpius was surprised at the readiness with which Mr. and Mrs. Potter had accepted his relationship with their daughter. Evidently, Lily had already written to them about it just two weeks into their relationship – a detail that had conveniently slipped her mind. When he'd crossed the Floo channel earlier that morning, oblivious to their knowledge, and determined to keep a respectable distance from their daughter (and just a tad too glad at the opportunity to maintain his own space for once), Lily had thrown herself at him, placing a well aimed kiss on his shocked (read: terrified) lips.

He had gotten used to the feel of her mouth (finally), but to kiss her in front of her parents mortified him. Especially when he hadn't yet properly explained their relationship. Or his intentions. He'd turned his head with a start, looking wide eyed and helpless at Mr. and Mrs. Potter while trying ineffectively to disentangle himself from their daughter's grip, apologising profusely all the while. Al had laughed uproariously and Lily had giggled sneakily (a true Slytherin, after all), whispering, "They already know. I told them weeks ago."

Mrs. Potter had let slip a small chuckle of her own, and Mr. Potter's face held a look that was a cross between amusement and discomfort – not that Scorpius had realised that was possible. He'd walked over to Scorpius and clapped his shoulder awkwardly before shaking his hand. He could tell he had been hoping for casual; he had failed miserably. But the moment had passed, and soon the mood had returned to the same ease Scorpius had always enjoyed. Mr. Potter stopped treating Scorpius like the man about to whisk his daughter away to a life of marriage and children, and he felt he could breathe again.

He found that Mrs. Potter, in particular, had treated him with more affection than usual, complimenting his robes and telling him what a handsome young man he was. She had even sent Lily a sidelong wink, whispering, "Well done," which of course had sent a rush of hot blood to Scorpius' cheeks. He'd felt oddly objectified.

An hour into his visit, he got the sense that Mrs. Potter's increased focus on him was in fact an attempt to take attention away from her stilted interactions with her husband. There was no outright bickering or baleful looks, but the two seemed out of sync, avoiding each others' eyes and knocking limbs as they moved to let the other pass.

When Al had voiced that he was in the mood for tea, it was with an almost palpable relief that Ginny had stood and offered to prepare drinks for everyone.

Now just the four of them occupied the living room, and Scorpius had to check himself from blatantly staring at Mr. Potter every few minutes. He was handsomer than Scorpius remembered, even with his too-often stress-furrowed brow around his wife. Scorpius wished he would just keep smiling as he did each time he destroyed one of Al's pieces.

His bishop took down Scorpius' king, and Mrs. Potter returned. She placed the tray down for everyone to serve themselves. Scorpius tried not to notice Mr. Potter's wistful look in her direction.

Later that night, Lily dragged him away from the dinner table to come look at her room. Mr. Potter seemed about to protest, but refrained with a tight smile. Scorpius wished he hadn't.

Once in her room, she closed the door and walked to her bed. She patted the space beside her as she sat, and Scorpius took the proffered seat. He watched her wordlessly, wondering what exactly she had in mind when she moved in to kiss him. He kissed back, as he'd grown accustomed to doing, and remembered to place his hand on her lap. But he snatched it back almost violently when a wet tongue licked across his lip.

"What's wrong?" She asked, noticeably anxious. "Don't you… Don't you like it?"

A ferocious _No!_ sounded in his head, but he forced himself to stomp it down. "No, I just- I wasn't expecting it. Sorry. Shall we try again?" She nodded eagerly and leaned forward, her mouth open. He felt warm breath brush his skin before her lips pressed wetly against him once more. Scorpius forced himself to stay still when her tongue darted out, licking tentatively. He parted his own lips to touch the tip of his tongue against hers. It wasn't the worst thing he had ever experienced. Their tongues touched once more, and this time, her lips closed around his tongue, sucking lightly. It tickled a bit, but he was irritated to realise he didn't altogether like it.

They kissed for a while longer, teeth clacking against each other every so often as they tried to set a pace. Scorpius was rather confused about where exactly to place his tongue, periodically missing Lily's as he pressed in too far or too high. It felt incredibly frustrating, and once they'd finally set a rhythm, it grew overly methodical. He spent the entire time trying to anticipate where her tongue would move next and when her lips would close, and it didn't feel pleasurable at all. It just felt like work. He wondered if she felt the same. If she did, he couldn't tell.

After about ten minutes, Lily gently pushed him onto his back so that she could lay her chest against him as they kissed. And though it was a more comfortable position, it only compounded his unease as her breasts once again pressed into him. A soft moan escaped her lips. Scorpius wondered if he should do the same. Instead, he opened his eyes and looked at the clock hanging above her door frame. How long would this continue?

He lost concentration, and their teethed clacked once more. He murmured an apology and broke the kiss, rising into a sitting position. Lily didn't seem to mind. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, one arm slung over his right shoulder as she lay her head against his left.

"You know, I asked to be put in Slytherin."

"What?" Scorpius asked, distracted. Perhaps visiting over the winter holidays had been a bad idea.

"At the Sorting. The Sorting Hat told me my mind was at odds with my spirit, and that he could see me in different houses." Scorpius looked down at her, uncomprehending. The Sorting Hat's conversation with him had been much less probing. In fact, it had barely touched his head before yelling out 'Slytherin!' "I looked at you, and I thought, 'Slytherin. Just Slytherin, just Slytherin.' He asked me if I was sure, and I thought, 'yes, I'm sure.' And then he called it out. Slytherin." One hand idly caressed the left side of his face, running down the length from his temple to his chin.

"You're joking."

"I'm not. I knew I wanted to be wherever you were. As early as my first day of Hogwarts. Before, even." Scorpius looked away from her, suddenly shameful. "I can't believe we're actually together, now. I'd always hoped, but…. I'm glad it really happened." She hugged him tight before letting go and lying back again, tugging at his jumper for him to join her. He did so with utter contempt for himself.

Scorpius hadn't stayed much longer before excusing himself to Al's room. It was an unspoken understanding that he would share Al's room during the nights. He felt embarrassed as he reunited with his friend, aware that Al knew he'd just come from his sister's room. Obviously snogging.

But Al simply tossed a pillow at him and declared, "You'd better not plan on spending your entire visit with my sister. After all, we were friends first!" he said it in that exaggerated voice that told him he was both joking and serious, and Scorpius promised to spend the entirety of the next day ice skating with him.

When they were preparing for bed, Scorpius left to grab an extra blanket. It was a bit chilly despite the strong magic heating the house, and he hated sleeping in the cold. He turned left, as Al had told him, heading over to a closet full of linens and sheets. But as he reached up to grab one, a deep voice called out questioningly, "Scorpius?"

He swivelled his head in the direction of a door he'd never seen open before. Now, light streamed out from the room, Mr. Potter's head peeking out from behind a desk. Scorpius approached it. "Yes, Mr. Potter?" He didn't dare pass the doorframe without permission. It was a private study from what Scorpius could see, and he knew his own father was extremely temperamental when it came to such things.

"Come in for a second. I want to talk to you." Nervous but thrilled (and this time he knew exactly why), he stepped forward. "Close the door behind you." He did. "Have a seat," and as he made his way over to a brown leather loveseat, Mr. Potter stood to join him. "So," he began.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Are you enjoying your stay so far?"

"Very much, sir."

"Oh, please. You don't have to call me 'sir.' In fact, I've been meaning to tell you to start calling me Harry. I think we've known each long enough, don't you?" At Scorpius' nod, he continued. "After all, you're a growing boy. Almost a man, really." Scorpius smiled tightly, not sure where this was going. "And now you're dating my daughter." Oh. That's where.

"Mr. Potter, I promise. We're not doing anything inappropriate. Kissing's as far as we've taken it, and I don't intend to-"

"Woah, there. Slow down." He laughed, a strange look in his eyes. "Oh, bother. I guess my approach did warrant that sort of reaction." At Scorpius' nonplussed stare, he added, "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm not trying to play the evil dad or anything like that, and you definitely don't need to tell me all the details of your relationship. It's just, well. She is my only daughter, and the youngest, and I just wanted to make sure that…. Oh, bugger. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I'm just a helpless, confused father, you know?" he smiled crookedly at Scorpius.

"Yes, Mr. Po—"

"Harry."

"Harry." He liked the sound of it. "It's perfectly understandable. I wouldn't fault you if you did want to interrogate me about anything."

"No, I really don't. And I'm sure Lily would hate me if I did. I just- I guess I'm going through a rather difficult time in my own life, and I want to make sure you both know what you're getting into. I don't want anyone to get hurt. That's all."

He knew he shouldn't, but… "Is everything alright, Mr.- erm, Harry?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course. Everything's fine."

_What the hell_, he thought, pressing on. "Are you sure? Things seemed a bit… tense… between you and erm…. Well."

"Oh, bollocks. Have we been that obvious?"

"Only a little." He smiled ruefully.

"Yes, well, it's nothing Al and Lily aren't used to by now. But I had hoped we could be a little less… 'in your face' about it while you were here, at least."

"It's really not that bad. Honestly. Everyone has their off days."

"Yes, well, this is turning out to be an off couple of years." He winced, as if regretting his candidness.

He couldn't help it. He placed a hand on Harry's leg, hoping to convey a sense of comfort. With a steadying breath, he forced himself not to rub, wondering why it couldn't feel this nice when he touched Lily. Harry looked down at him, an unreadable expression clouding his face for a long, dreadful moment. Then he smiled and placed his own hand atop Scorpius', squeezing tight and pulling him in for a hug. Scorpius basked in the warmth of his body. He smelled of cologne. "You know, if she had to start dating this early, I'm rather glad she chose you. You're a very nice boy. Quite the catch." Scorpius snorted, and Harry exclaimed, "Really! You're very handsome, you know. Far better looking than I was at your age. You ought to be well chuffed. When I was fourteen, I was just a speccy little git, running 'round and getting into trouble all the time with clothes practically falling off me they fit so badly." Scorpius had heard a similar description many a time from his father. Staring up at the handsome man before him now, it was difficult to believe.

"Thank you," he murmured quietly. Harry squeezed his shoulder lightly.

"Listen, do me a favour, will you? Don't tell Al his father spent the night moaning to you about his marital woes, yeah?"

Scorpius grinned. "Of course not. Anyway, my parents bicker all the time. Constantly, in fact. Although it's mostly a lot of whinging from my father and a lot of eye rolling from my mother."

Harry laughed at that. "Still the same as ever, your father." Scorpius knew he meant it playfully. "Alright, I release you from my dull, middle aged prattling. You can head back to bed, now."

"You're not dull, Harry." He said softly. "I… actually wish we talked more." Another beat as he considered his next statement. "I like you."

"I like you, too, Scorpius." A familiar thrill rushed through his chest.

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Scorpius."

He would break things off with Lily as soon as they returned to Hogwarts.

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**Author's Note:** Yay – I was so psyched to see the several new followers I have for this storry! And just to get you all super excited, the next chapter will DEFINITELY feature some serious guy on guy action. So send my some love and reviews if you want the chapter out faster! =D

(Why, yes, thank you for asking… I AM evil…)


	4. Chapter 4

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_April 2__nd__, 2021_

As it turned out, he hadn't needed to say a word. One rainy day in March (yes, alright. He'd been too great of a coward to do anything about it, himself), she had sat him down and said, "Scorpius, I don't think this is working out." Liking where she was going, but not comprehending her motive, he'd remained silent. "It's just, as cliché as this sounds, I feel like there's no spark. I like you, I really do, but when we kiss, it's like you're not even there. And quite frankly, I don't know how present I am any more, either." She'd looked down, regretful.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't want to end up like my mum and dad, that's for sure. This was how it started for them. First there was no spark, then they started arguing, and I swear, sometimes they can't even stand to look at each other." She turned to Scorpius with a meaningful look. "I don't want that to happen to us."

"I- are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Do you really think there's any hope in continuing whatever it is we've got going on?" Her frowning lips indicated her own thoughts on the matter.

He'd rested a hand against her back and said, "Yeah. You've got a point."

It was a more amicable parting than he could have hoped for, and when she'd started dating a second year Gryffindor shortly after, he'd congratulated her with a hug. Al had smiled a little too much at the news ("Sorry, mate" he'd later admitted. "But Lily kept hogging you all the time. It was really starting to get on my nerves."); and he could only imagine that Harry had sighed in heady relief when he'd read Lily's weekly letter. She really did tell her parents everything.

Meanwhile, he'd spent his nights finally achieving sexual satisfaction. And always to the same face. It was striking, the increase in libido he had attained now that he'd started thinking of the right sex. The right person. A few days after he and Lily had called things off, he'd begun considering his sexual attraction to other blokes. It had started (embarrassingly enough) with Al. After years of friendship, he knew he didn't have any romantic feelings for Al, and so he'd thought him the perfect specimen for judging purely physical interests. He'd kept it subtle. A brush of hands here, a shoulder bump there. He sat a little closer to Al than strictly necessary when going over their Potions notes, contrasting the feel of his straight hips with that of Lily's curved ones. And while he never grew aroused, per se, it felt incredibly... right. As though he should always picture himself pressed against another flat, hard body.

A few weeks into his "experimentation," guilt got the better of him, and he'd stopped using Al as his personal guinea pig. He'd started testing his feelings out on other boys, knocking into them in the hallways, sneaking glances in the Quidditch changing rooms. He'd even found himself eyeing Nott of all people from the opening in his shower curtains. He was loathe to admit that the contrasting flatness of the other boy's belly and the curve of his buttocks had hitched his breath more than just a little.

That had been the first night he'd consciously masturbated to the thought of another man. He'd waited till Nott himself had begun his nightly routine, spurring Scorpius on with his dirty grunts. His fantasy had started out as an image of Nott, water running down his back, dripping into the delicate crevice between his arse. He'd pictured the other boy's soap-sudded hand curling around his shaft as he'd done the first time he'd forced his way into Scorpius' shower, stretching his foreskin back and forth between soapy suds. He imagined the grunting beside him happening in the shower, Nott throwing his head back underneath a steady stream of water as he jerked himself off.

Scorpius fisted his own flesh faster, then, imagining Nott turning to him with a glazed expression and grabbing Scorpius with his free hand. Something felt off, and he fell out of the fantasy for a moment. It was fine imagining Nott wanking in the shower, but something about him actually grabbing Scorpius didn't sit will with him. He closed his eyes with a determined breath and forced the fantasy to continue. He pictured the shower again, the steam filling the room. Only this time, it was a glass door in place of the school's generic shower curtains. And instead of Nott's angry face, he saw Harry's confused one. He wrenched his fist away with a gasp.

It was a memory he'd tried to forget time and time again, his drunken run-in with Harry in the shower. He'd only caught a glimpse of the man's limp prick at the time, and he'd tried not to wonder what it might look like fully erect. Now, though, the images came to him unbidden. Inhaling once, he told himself to stop resisting. If he was going to explore his sexual preferences, he might as well do it in earnest. Pushing away the queasy feeling that he was doing something horribly taboo, he allowed the memory of that night to flood his mind. He tried to remember the shadows along Harry's chest, outlining well defined muscles. Water streamed down broad shoulders, and the man's neck stretched back, his mouth falling slack. Scorpius squeezed himself almost violently.

Nott hissed beside him, and Scorpius imagined it was Harry, gasping as his orgasm wracked through him, semen spurting out around his hand. And Scorpius didn't know what he wanted to imagine next, but he wished he could feel Harry's chest, rub his cheek against his nipples, feel the pert nubs snag against his parted lips, and he was coming, coming, coming…!

A chuckle to his left brought him crashing back to reality, and he realised with horror that he had whimpered quite loudly.

"Who needs the Silencing Spell, now?" Nott quipped, and Scorpius hastily cast a Muffling Charm, not wanting to hear another word out of that stupid Nott's mouth.

He hadn't been able to look Nott in the face for a solid week after that.

And while he was pleased to have finally discovered just exactly what it was that got him off, the thought of telling anyone else sent a painful chill through his spine. He imagined spending the rest of his life without ever telling another soul.

Except that a few days after his masturbating fiasco, a curious thing happened. While walking back from Quidditch practice, Declan Finnigan had bumped into him and promptly turned into a babbling, stuttering mess. Scorpius had never actually spoken with him before. He was a third year Hufflepuff who stood out only for his impossibly thick Irish accent. In fact, the only time Scorpius had ever even heard Finnigan mentioned was when McGonagall had called him forward to be Sorted. He had forgotten his name altogether when he'd run into him mid-March; but Finnigan had seemed to known him all too well.

"Oh, S-Scorpius. I mean Malfoy! Erm, I'm sorry. I didn't see you. How are you? Wait, you probably don't even know me. I'm Declan. Declan Finnigan. I'm a third year Hufflepuff. You're a Slytherin."

"Erm… yes. I am. I'd best be off."

"Right, yeah. You just got off practice, didn't you? Every Tuesday and Thursday, right? Sometimes Saturdays. Probably need to shower." Finnigan's voice had gone slightly breathy at the last statement.

"Mmhm."

"I thought you were fantastic last season. You blocked 72 throws by the season's end."

"Is that right? I really must be going, now."

"O-okay, well, see you later!"

_Not likely_, Scorpius had thought. Rather meanly, he acknowledged, but really. The boy was completely pathetic. And peculiar. '_How are you?_' They'd never even spoken before.

But once they'd bumped into each other, it had been impossible to rid himself of the doting Hufflepuff. Everywhere he turned, there he was. In the dining hall, in the library, on the grounds, in the halls. Alright, Scorpius could admit. It was possible that Finnigan wasn't stalking him, per se. Possible that Scorpius was only just now starting to notice him. Still. He was everywhere!

Scorpius knew it was bad when one day he'd reached down to touch himself and pictured curly blonde locks with a thick Irish accent. It wasn't as good as his fantasies about Harry (never that), but it was… nice… the thought that someone might be sexually interested in him. Someone of the male variety, that is. More importantly, he enjoyed fantasising about someone who, for once, seemed a heck of a lot more attainable than his best friend's dad.

That was two weeks ago, when he'd had his first orgasm to the thought of throwing Finnigan against a wall, ripping open his trousers, and sticking his hands down the boy's pants. Since then, he'd decided to make it real. (Or at least try.)

Earlier this morning, he'd broken off his study plans with Al, pleading a sudden migraine. It was a small lie, and Scorpius hoped he would forgive him if he ever found out.

When he accidentally bumped into Finnigan for the second time (okay, it was possible that he had planned the whole thing out and cornered him in an empty classroom when he was coming back from his weekly Potions study session at the library, which, by the way, he only knew because someone had just so happened to mention it, and no, he was definitely _not_ stalking him, thank you very much), he made his move.

"Finnigan," he muttered, raking the boy's thin frame with his eyes. He'd decided earlier that week to be obvious with his body language, but say nothing incriminating. In the worst case scenario, he could always argue that Finnigan had simply misinterpreted the situation, since, after all, Scorpius had never actually _said_ anything about wanting to rip his clothes off and rub him until he mewled like a filthy, filthy animal. How was it his fault if Finnigan's deluded Hufflepuff mind conjured up such crazy ideas?

He hoped that wouldn't be the case.

He watched Finnigan carefully, waiting for his reaction. Would he say anything? Do anything? A thin sheen of sweat sprinkled across the back of Scorpius' neck.

"Malfoy," he gulped, evidently nervous. Good. It served him right.

"The other day, you seemed to know quite a bit about me. How is that?"

"Oh, I just. I've noticed you. Around." His blush was blinding.

"Really? And why is that?"

His reply was so low, Scorpius almost missed it. "I'd have to be blind not to."

"Blind?"

"I mean, it's just—everyone knows you're the fittest bloke in your year. Maybe any year."

His pulse quickened, and he struggled to maintain an air of calm as he pressed forward. "Is that so?"

"I dunno. It's what they say."

He desperately hoped he was reading Finnigan's nervous mumbling correctly. Otherwise, this was going to be a very difficult interrogation to explain.

"And what do _you_ say, _Declan_?" The first name had been a last-minute addition. He hoped it wasn't overkill.

By the sudden intake of breath, he guessed not. "I- I guess I would have to agree."

"Agree with what? What do you think about me?" He stepped forward, inches away from the boy, cowering against the teacher's desk, and yet seeming to lean forward all the same.

"I think… you're the handsomest bloke I've ever seen."

Scorpius really hoped this wasn't just misplaced admiration. Or if it was, then he hoped it was misplaced enough that Scorpius could persuade him to do whatever he wanted.

Cautiously, he raised a hand to the top of Finnigan's robe, running the back of his curled finger along Finnigan's exposed shirt collar. Finnigan stopped breathing.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, hoping to gods that he didn't.

"…N-no." _Yesss._

He leaned in, touching his lips against Finnigan's. He didn't pull back.

It felt at once entirely similar to his kisses with Lily, and completely different. The lips felt the same, soft and pliable; but it wasn't a forced task. Scorpius was aroused. Whether from his exceedingly close proximity to the hard, flat body beneath him or the masculine jut of Finnigan's jaw, Scorpius didn't know, but he liked it, and he pushed forward, his tongue snaking between their lips. When Finnigan opened his mouth for him, stretching out his own, hesitant tongue, Scorpius grabbed it between his lips as Lily had done to him, and sucked. He nearly moaned from the pleasure. Finnigan actually did.

He grabbed his hands around Scorpius' head and pulled him closer, bucking his hips against him. And then Scorpius felt it. A very hard, very thick something pressed insistently against his leg. And it felt exquisite. He pressed back against Finnigan, their legs scissoring as they dry humped each other's thighs, moving frantically, uncoordinated, so that they sometimes had to stop and readjust to keep up with each others' tempos. It was awkward, and Scorpius would later cringe at the ridiculousness of the sight the pair must have made, but at the moment, it felt better than any hand job he'd ever given himself, and he rode Finnigan's leg until he was so lost he forgot how to kiss, and suddenly grunted with the explosion of pleasure between his legs. Finnigan jerked a few more times before he, too, let out a small moan and slumped back against the desk, his head falling forward to rest upon Scorpius' chest.

Scorpius took a moment to catch his breath before muttering a quiet '_Scourgify_' and turning away.

"Wait!" Finnigan called out, a desperate look in his eyes. "Where are you going?"

"Back to my room, of course. Where else?"

"I- Can I see you again?"

"I'll owl you." And with that, he walked away, a wicked grin etched upon his face.

Maybe this whole gay thing wasn't so bad after all. Certainly not if he was the Casanova he suddenly thought himself to be. He liked this, liked this sense of control. It was so different from the way he'd felt with Lily. There had been no lust, no thirst to control and claim what he wanted. Finnigan wanted him, and for once, Scorpius returned the sentiment, if only on a purely physical level. And this way, he could pine away after Harry and still get a little action on the side. Now to find out if there were any other closeted Wizards about the castle.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_August 3__rd__, 2021_

As it turned out, closeted Wizards were harder to come upon than Scorpius had anticipated. Finnigan had been a rare and lucky find (even if he wasn't exactly the dashing man of his dreams), and he had been forced (well, alright, perhaps 'forced' was the wrong word) to explore the rest of his sexuality with the doting Hufflepuff. He was grateful, certainly, and he had taken great pleasure in every lick and suck that came from Finnigan's pretty little mouth, but fooling around nearly three times a week meant that Finnigan had started to get entirely the wrong idea about their arrangement.

Half way into a blow job late one evening, Finnigan had pulled back to whisper, "I can't believe we're really dating."

Scorpius had ignored the flicker of displeasure until _after_ the blow job, when he'd kindly explained that "Finnigan, we are _not_ dating."

It was mindboggling to him how easy it was to disregard Finnigan's emotions when he had suffered so miserably with Lily. Every day he spent with Finnigan, he grew increasingly amazed at the depths of his own selfishness, even callousness. He supposed the old stereotypes about Slytherins could not be denied. Those he loved, he loved fiercely, and everyone else was hardly worth his time. It was only slightly disturbing to him that this revelation didn't bother him.

Still, he had made sure not to completely shatter Finnigan's hopes. The boy was rather dim, and a bit of a nancy, truth be told. But he would still need someone to fool around with come next autumn.

As Scorpius watched Al's stony face from across the room, however, he realised that even sex wasn't going to make his fifth year pleasant if he didn't figure out what exactly it was causing Al's strange behaviour these past few days.

At first, Scorpius had tried to attribute it to the recent divorce of Mr. and Mrs. Potter. He had learned of the news a week before it had splashed across the front of every major Wizarding newspaper. At the end of an otherwise typical letter, Al had written, as if in passing, that by the way, his parents were getting a divorce and had waited until they'd had the whole family together the first day back from Hogwarts to tell everyone. Over a series of back and forth owls, in which Scorpius attempted to be as comforting as possible, he'd discovered that Mrs. Potter had chosen to move out, agreeing that it wasn't fair to make Harry leave his parents' home. She was temporarily staying with Molly Weasley until she found a suitable apartment. The two had agreed that Al, James, and Lily would spend the first half of the summer holidays with her, and the second half with Harry.

From his letters, Al seemed to be coping well enough with the change. He admitted in one particularly candid letter that he had long suspected it would happen, and he was trying not to let it jar him too much. Scorpius was glad for it, and even gladder when Al exclaimed that of course he still expected Scorpius for his dad's birthday; he was counting on him to take his mind off this whole mess, wanker.

And it had seemed like Scorpius was doing just that. For the first few hours, anyway. Al had grabbed him in a strangling hug the moment he'd stepped out of the fireplace and into the Potter's living room. Scorpius had hugged him back, and allowed the hug to last a few seconds longer than usual while Al gripped fiercely at his robes. Anything to cheer him up.

They had laughed and chatted, and Al had even made sure to bring him around to Harry, who had seemed both happy and sad at once. He supposed that was the way with divorces. But once Hugo and Rose had arrived, their parents in tow, everything had changed.

Harry had opted for a more intimate gathering this year, not wanting to force any uncomfortable interactions between himself and the Weasley side of the family. Instead, his birthday celebration would encompass just a small dinner between him, his two closest friends, and all their children. The nine of them had gathered around the magically enlarged dining room table, everyone chatting amicably with the exception of Hugo, who seemed to be acting even more coldly towards Scorpius than usual. They'd sung the song, cut the cake, and then relocated to the living room to chat and play exploding snap. After the second game, Harry and the older Weasleys had excused themselves to have more "adult" conversations (Scorpius suspected this really just meant that Mrs. Weasley – protective as she was – wanted to interrogate Harry about his feelings while Mr. Weasley got dragged along. At least, that was the impression he'd gotten from her repeated attempts to question him at dinner, and Mr. Weasley's steadfast avoidance of any topic regarding emotions.) in the kitchen. Lily called it a night after 11:00, a solid hour after James had retired to his own room to Firecall his latest girlfriend. (Scorpius couldn't remember who.) That left Scorpius, Al, Rose, and Hugo in the living room.

At about midnight, all the tea had finally caught up with him, and he excused himself to the bathroom. Upon his return, heated whispers abruptly halted as the two Weasleys and Al noticed his presence. Rose glared at a determined-looking Hugo. Al held Hugo's eyes with disbelief.

"What?" Scorpius asked. He didn't like being so obviously left out.

"Nothing," Rose hissed, a vehement glare still directed at Hugo. "Right, Al? It's nothing."

"That's not what I heard, and that's not what you heard, either." Hugo said, glaring right back at his sister. "But by all means, Al, believe what you want."

"Believe what? Will somebody please tell me what's going on?"

After a long pause, Al finally replied, eyes firmly on the ground. "Nothing, Scor. Hugo is just being a real prick." As if he hadn't always known. The next half hour passed with little conversation until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley reappeared from the kitchen. They said their good byes, taking Hugo and Rose with them.

But even after they left, a sense of unease persisted. Al avoided Scorpius' gaze the entire night. The next day was hardly any better, and by the third day, Scorpius was about ready to punch Al in the face. He was here to spend time with him, to bring him comfort, and while he could certainly understand that a parents' divorce could be stressful, he couldn't help but feel that Al's strange behaviour had nothing to do at all with Mr. and Mrs. Potter's failed marriage.

Today was the fourth day of Al's ridiculous behaviour, and Scorpius resolved to put an end to it once and for all. He would do it delicately, of course (he knew Al wasn't at his best), but he wouldn't sugar-coat his feelings, either. It would be a completely civil, mature conversation. Or at least he had intended it to be. That was until Al's snippy little attitude finally threw him over the edge.

"Al," Scorpius began.

"Hm," Al replied non-committally, refusing to lift his head away from his latest issue of _Quidditch Monthly_. Scorpius forced it not to rile him.

"Al will you please look at me."

"Scorpius, I'm reading." His jaw clenched.

"Well, _Albus_, I'm sorry if I'd like to be looked in the eyes like a worthy human being when I'm talking to someone."

"Don't start."

"No, don't _you_ start. You've been acting like a royal arse since I got here."

"Why don't you shut your mouth, yeah?"

"Why don't you tell me what the hell your fucking problem is?" Al looked up at that. Scorpius never swore. Not so vulgarly, anyway. He liked to keep it that way, using it only when he really meant it. "Well?" he persisted.

"It's nothing," Al said, looking down with an unreadable expression.

"What were you and Hugo talking about? On your father's birthday." As if he needed to clarify.

"Merlin, Scor, can't you just let it drop? That was ages ago."

"Apparently not since it's obviously still bothering you even three days later."

"It's nothing. Hugo was just saying things. He and Rose heard something, but it's obviously not true, so can we please just forget it!" It wasn't a question.

"Tell me what he said."

"You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do." He suspected he actually didn't.

"Look, it's not even—"

"Just tell me!"

"They said you're a queer!"

Scorpius blinked. Well. He hadn't been expecting that. Was it just a fabricated rumour, or did someone actually know something? He had to find out.

"And where did he get that idea?" It took every ounce of control he had to keep his voice clear and steady.

"He said—he said Rose heard from Mavis Finnigan that you and her brother had… done stuff. And that her brother was upset because you were just using him for… someone else."

Scorpius felt the blood drain from his face. He turned to look out the window. That stupid _fucker_. How could he have been so childish as to whine about something so exceedingly private? He wanted to flee, hide behind a closet (and no, he was not making a pun; goddamnit, this was serious!), and die. But Al continued.

"He said… he said that you really just fancy me."

"What?" Now that he could actually deny. "Al, surely you can't _believe_ that."

"Are you gay, Scorpius?"

"I do _not_ fancy you. I swear. I've never even—"

"That's not what I asked."

"Al, you can't be serious. Hugo's just—"

"Answer the question!"

"I…" Al looked on the verge of tears, as if he knew the answer might alter their friendship irreparably. Scorpius feared it might be true. But if he couldn't be honest with Al, then it wasn't really a true friendship to begin with, was it? "Yes. I'm gay."

It felt odd to say it aloud. Not bad. But not good, either. Like trying to encapsulate his whole life story into a funny little word he barely understood himself. He watched Al, who wheezed, as if punched in the gut. Al blinked unseeingly for a few moments before stilling. His blue eyes turned icy. "Get out."

Scorpius wasn't going to argue with him. He had more pride than that. Instead, he gritted his teeth and left, closing the door softly behind him. He considered Flooing back to the Manor before realising all his belongings were still in Al's room. He could wait till Al left. Or fell asleep. He wasn't sure. He decided to spend the rest of the day alone by the lake. It was peaceful there. And he didn't want to risk running into anyone. Who knew if Al would decide to spread the word 'round the house until the whole Potter family turned against him. He felt nauseous.

Dinner came and went, and Al refused to leave his room. Confused, Harry apologised for his son's strange behaviour. When James and Lily had cleared the table, and Scorpius was preparing to return to the lake, Harry asked, "Are you going to talk to Al, now?"

He shook his head. "Al doesn't want to talk to me."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Actually, Harry, I think I might Floo back home, tonight."

"But you weren't scheduled to leave for another two days."

"Yes, but… things have changed."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"… Scorpius, would you like some ice cream?"

"What?" It seemed an odd (and slightly inappropriate, if he was being perfectly honest) change in topic.

"Do you like vanilla? I know it's simple, but it's always been my favourite."

"Erm, thank you, Harry, but I'm not really in the mood for dessert just now."

"Nonsense," he said, already opening the freezer to pull out a small tub of ice cream. As he turned to the cupboards, he continued. "I've never once been turned down for ice cream, and I refuse to believe you'll be the first."

"Really, Harry, I appreciate it, but I don't-"

"I'll tell you what," he scooped out a large portion of vanilla ice cream into a clear dessert bowl. "I'm going to serve us both some ice cream, and then we'll take it up to my study to eat. It's about time we got to know each other better, wouldn't you agree?"

An inexplicable urge to cry overwhelmed Scorpius. He had felt so utterly alone since his revelation to Al. Yet here Harry was, trying to drown that all away – in a bucket of fatty cream. The gesture was bizarrely kind, and he couldn't refuse. "Alright."

"Lovely," he said, setting the half empty tub back in the freezer and passing one bowl to Scorpius. It felt cold in his hands, a stark contrast to the warm fingers that brushed against his own as he secured his grip. "Off we go, then." And the two headed up to Harry's study.

Unlike Scorpius' father would have done, Harry swerved away from his desk chair and headed straight for the loveseat, patting the seat beside him in invitation. The scene seemed oddly paternal, a boy sitting with his father and having a chat over ice cream. It was too bad the only instincts elicited in Scorpius were to throw down his bowl and lick the white cream right off Harry's lips. He didn't want to think about the implications of his arousal for such a powerful father figure. Definitely not.

He tasted a small bite of his own ice cream. It was rather nice.

"So do you want to tell me what's happened between you two?"

Another bite. He did, actually. He wanted to share his worries with someone else. He wanted to hear assurance (however false) that everything would be alright. He certainly wasn't prepared to go to his own father with his recent discoveries. But he wasn't sure that Harry himself would take the news well, either. After a short hesitation, he said, "Al hates me."

"Scorpius." Harry placed a rough hand atop Scorpius' knee, grabbing his attention and looking him carefully in the eye. "Al adores you. You're his very best friend."

"Not after… not after what he found out."

"And what exactly did he find out."

"I can't—you'll hate me, too."

A line formed between Harry's dark brows. "I highly doubt whatever it is that you're worried about will make me hate you."

"You don't know."

"Why don't you try me?"

"And if you hate me after I tell you? If you're disgusted by me? Then what?" Scorpius wished Harry could just know. Wished he could just look in his eyes and understand everything that was bothering him. He wanted him to know, but he didn't want to have to say it aloud. Not again.

"Well, then I suppose I'll have to kick you out of my house, won't I?" At Scorpius' shocked look, he laughed. "I'm joking! Scorpius, I promise you, I will not hate you no matter what you say. And if you even remotely think that I've gone back on my word, I give you full permission to hex me with the worst curse you can conjure up."

"That's not fair. I'm not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts."

"Fair enough. Then you can upend your ice cream over my head. Better?"

Scorpius smiled despite himself. He appreciated Harry's attempt to make light of the situation. A nervous pang jolted through his stomach as he decided to tell him. _Just say it_, he thought.

"Alright. But you have to promise. Even if you're disgusted, just—try not to show it too much. Alright?"

"I won't be disg-"

"Promise. Please." His voice sounded embarrassingly desperate.

"I promise."

"The reason Al and I aren't talking is that…. Hugo told him-. That is… he found out I'm… that I don't fancy… girls." He didn't dare meet Harry's eyes.

"What do you mean you don't fancy girls?" Harry replied after a brief pause.

"As in, I prefer boys. Men." He hoped the dimness in the room hid his fierce blush, a mix of shame and embarrassment.

"… but you dated Lily."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I- I wasn't sure at the time. I thought perhaps if I just tried-. I'd always liked Lily. She's so nice and fun and pretty. But it just-. It didn't work."

"Is that why you broke up?"

"Mostly. I think she could tell I wasn't… interested in taking the relationship further."

A long moment passed. Scorpius refused to look up. He'd forgotten the bit where he'd have to admit to practically using Lily for sexual experimentation to her father. If the gay bit hadn't done it, that part definitely ensured Harry's newfound hate for him. When Harry removed his hand from Scorpius' knee, he knew it was all over. Until Harry replaced it on the back of Scorpius' neck. He moved his thumb around to the lining of Scorpius' jaw and, just as he'd done all those years ago after protecting him from the dangerous lake waters, Harry lifted his chin with his thumb to meet his gaze.

"Scorpius, you have nothing to be ashamed of." Scorpius frowned but remained silent. "So you fancy boys. What's the big fuss? Truth be told, I've been attracted to the odd bloke every once in a while, too."

"_What_?" Harry laughed at his astonished shrill.

"Don't get me wrong. I was extremely in love with my wife when we married. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And we married straight after Hogwarts, so I never got the chance to experiment with the other side of my sexuality. But… it did exist. _Does_ exist."

"So… you're attracted to men, too?"

"Well, yes. Looking back on it, I think I might've even fancied my best friend Ron for quite a while. But don't tell anyone. I think he'd just about have a stroke if he found out."

Which reminded him. "That's actually part of the reason Al's angry with me." At Harry's inquiring look, he elaborated. "He thinks I fancy him."

"Oh." Harry said, suddenly less joking. Carefully, "… and do you?"

"That's just it. I don't. I really, honestly don't. I know it seems like a lie, and yes, I might have considered it for a moment while I was still figuring things out, but I've never had even the faintest romantic feelings towards him. He's my friend. My closest friend in the whole world. And that's it."

"Well, if that's the case, that really does make things a whole lot easier."

"What do you mean? He hates me."

"Scorpius, he doesn't hate you. But even if he did, it's founded on a lie. He's worried about the way your fancying him might affect your relationship. But you don't fancy him, and once he accepts that, he'll get over it. I promise. I didn't raise any bigots in this house."

"… You really think he'll get over it."

"I really do."

"Thanks, Harry." He looked into those warm, green eyes, and felt the courage to take just the smallest risk. Heart racing, he leaned forward and placed a small kiss against Harry's stubbled cheek. When he pulled back, Harry was still smiling, but it seemed different. An inscrutable expression tinted the curve of his eyes, and Scorpius wasn't sure whether or not it was a bad thing. He decided to ignore it in favour of questioning Harry more. "So do you think now that… well, now that you and Al's mum are… no longer together," he looked up to see whether or not he was pushing too far. Though Harry's eyes looked slightly rueful, he didn't make any attempt to stop Scorpius' questioning. "Do you think now you'll explore that… other side of your, erm… interests?"

Harry laughed, the sad look erased from his eyes. Scorpius imagined he was relieved not to be interrogated once again about his emotions about the divorce. "Actually, I've been thinking about it a lot. Ginny and I decided to divorce long before we actually did. Just after the winter holiday, actually, so I've had a lot of time to think about what I want and where I want to go from here. And trying to learn about who I am without Ginny is a very large part of that."

"Is that a yes?" Scorpius asked. He wasn't going to let Harry out of this one.

Harry chuckled. "Yes. That's a yes."

"Oh." Harry nodded. "Have you told anyone about your interest in men?"

"Yes, actually. Even Ginny knew."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. She caught me staring a little too attentively at the Chudley Cannon's Keeper during the 2010 World Cup, and it wasn't very hard for her to put two and two together."

"Is that why—I mean. I'm sorry. That's none of my business."

"No, it's fine," Harry sighed, accepting the inevitable. "Ginny and I divorced for a lot of reasons that are difficult to put into words. We loved each other for a very long time, and in a way, I will always love her. She knows me in a way that no one else ever will. But time changes things; it changes people, and sometimes you just can't keep up with it. My being attracted to men had nothing to do with it."

"How did you react when she asked you about it?"

"How did I react?" He laughed, chagrined. "I denied it, of course! I thought, 'no way am I about to tell the mother of my children that I fancy men!' But she always did have a way of teasing the truth out of me, even when I wasn't quite ready to admit it to myself. It became something to joke about afterwards, and after a while I felt comfortable enough to let my closest friends know, too."

"Does Al know?"

"I don't think so. It never seemed like something I'd need to bring up with my children. I suppose things are a bit different, now."

"Do you think you'll ever tell him."

"Well I imagine it will be difficult for him not to figure it out when he sees me dating a man, if that day ever comes."

"So you won't tell him yourself?"

"I will. I'm just not sure when. Although perhaps it would be of some help to you if I did it sooner rather than later."

Scorpius smiled. "No. I want him to talk to me because he wants to. Not because he feels guilty knowing his own father shares the same quality that upset him about me."

"That's an incredibly mature thing to say, Scorpius."

He blushed. "Thank you."

"Listen, I know you probably don't feel comfortable sharing a room with Al, tonight. Why don't you kip out in my room, instead?" Scorpius' stomach flipped at the thought of sharing a bed with Harry. "You can have the bed. I'll take the couch." Then again, some things really were too good to be true.

"No, I couldn't. I'll take the couch."

"Nonsense. You'll take the bed, and I'll hear nothing to the contrary. Now, let's go. I'll give you the grand tour, change into nightwear, and then we can all have a lie down and sleep."

"It's only nine o'clock."

"You've got a point." Scorpius smirked. "Well, then, we'll talk for another hour, and _then_ we'll go to bed."

"But then it will only be ten."

"Which is a perfectly respectable hour for sleep."

"If you say so."

Harry ruffled his hair. "Where did the quiet little boy who was always so polite go? Now you're just as cheeky as any of my own kids."

"I was always this cheeky. I just never let you see it."

Harry considered him for a moment. "Well I'm glad you finally did."

The two carried on for another three hours (Scorpius couldn't believe how easily the conversation had continued after that. He'd asked Harry some more about his sexuality – Was he nervous about never having dated a man before? How did one find people to date after Hogwarts? Would he consider women again? How long does it take before you know someone is 'the one'? Did he think he would ever share a home with anyone again? – and was pleasantly surprised at the honesty with which Harry answered even the more intimate questions. His own father would have simply brushed them aside, scolding Scorpius for inquiring about things about which he had no business inquiring.) before Harry let out a gargantuan yawn, and insisted they both go to bed. He walked Scorpius to his room, excused himself to the adjoining bathroom to change, and then left Scorpius to sleep on his own.

He was disappointed he wouldn't get to share his slumber next to Harry's warm body. Still, he wasn't completely without him; the smell of Harry cradled him to sleep as he pressed his face into the man's fluffy white pillow.

0o0o0

The next morning, Scorpius woke up to a shift of movement at his side. The bed dipped as Al sat down and peered intently into his face. Scorpius dared not say a word.

"I'm sorry," Al whispered. Then louder, "I'm really sorry." Still, he said nothing. "You're my best friend, and I shouldn't have acted like that. There's no excuse for it."

Scorpius nodded. "It's okay." It wasn't, really. It had hurt to see his friend so quickly turn against him. But he was willing to forgive him if that's what it took to renew their friendship.

"And I believe you. About not fancying me. Especially what with me being such a royal arse. Not much of a surprise, really," he smiled ruefully. "It's just that… why didn't you tell me?"

"What do you mean?"

"How long have you known?"

"I'm not sure. I suspected it for a while. But I only really admitted it to myself a few months back."

"But why couldn't you tell me?"

"Al, I didn't know how you'd react. I barely wanted to know the truth, myself."

"But I'm your best friend. Of course I would have accepted it!"

"It didn't seem that way, yesterday."

Al had the sense to look chagrined. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"So you've said."

"I suppose I've really botched things up, haven't I?" Scorpius shrugged non-committally. "Scor, I don't know what else to say. I reacted badly. I just felt…. As soon as Hugo told me, I thought there was no way you could be… gay and not tell me about it. You're my best mate. When you told me it was the truth... I was completely gutted. It made me feel as though perhaps you didn't feel as close to me as I'd thought if you couldn't tell me something so important about yourself."

"Al, you know that's not true."

"I do. It just took me a few hours to pull my head out of my own arse and figure it out."

Scorpius sighed. "Well, I'm glad you finally did."

0o0o0

The night before he was scheduled to leave, Al looked up from his bed and asked, "What's it like to kiss another bloke?" The last few days had gone by as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at all. Scorpius was glad for the resilient plasticity of their friendship. But the actual topic of his sexuality had remained carefully avoided after their makeup session. The question had caught him off guard.

"Erm… a bit like kissing a girl, I suppose."

"Really?" Al looked ready to protest.

"Really. And I should know, since I've done both."

"Right." Al looked nervous, as if contemplating whether or not to say his next words. "Could we… ? I mean… I'm curious. To know what it's like."

"Oh."

"Would you… would you mind if we tried it?"

"Kissing?"

"… yes."

"You want me to kiss you?"

"Or the other way around. Although I suppose I'd probably be too nervous to move in the final bit."

"Are you joking?"

"… no."

"Why?"

"I told you. I'm curious. I just want to know."

"I think it would be awkward."

"As if we haven't done stranger things."

"…We haven't."

"… I guess you're right." Another beat. "Is that a no?"

Scorpius laughed, whether from nerves or amusement, he wasn't sure. "I'll try it if you want. Just promise not to slug me when you decide you don't like it."

"And you said you definitely don't fancy me, right?"

Scorpius lugged his pillow at Al's head. "No, you stupid prat."

"Okay, okay. Just checking."

Scorpius rose to sit beside him on his bed. "So, is this going to be full out snogging? Or do you just want me to…?"

Al nodded, licking his lips. "Just come at me. Really. I'm too scared to do it myself, but I've sort of always wanted to know. Not that I'm interested in blokes or anything, but… It's one of those things you wonder about, isn't it?"

"If you say so." And with that, he leaned in (slow enough that Al could jerk back if he changed his mind) to press a kiss against Al's lips. He made it as chaste as possible, uncertain of how much exactly Al wanted to "explore." To his surprise, Al parted his lips and swept his tongue against Scorpius' upper lip (upper? Now that was a surprise. He'd never started a kiss that way.). Scorpius moved up to trap Al's tongue between his lips before pressing his own tongue against Al's as he sucked lightly until Al's tongue slipped back out from his lips.

It was surreal. Too surreal. He couldn't help it; he smiled. And Al snorted, and soon both were laughing against each other's lips, pulling back, and shaking their heads.

"Well, if I wasn't sure before, I definitely am, now. Not in love with you in the least."

"Oh, piss off," Al joked. "At least I know I don't fancy blokes."

"You don't know what you're missing," Scorpius threw back, enjoying the sudden sense of openness with Al. It was as if the kiss had broken the last residue of awkwardness between them, and he could speak about his sexuality without constant censorship. "Men are so much less complicated than women."

"Now that, I'll believe."

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**Author's Note:** Hope you all enjoyed. Thanks to my new followers and those of you who reviewed. I'd like to offer a particular thank you to Azriellia – your review was the loveliest of all my reviews, and really gave me the encouragement I'd been lacking the last two chapters. This chapter is for you.


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